Free cash

Just a traffic accident, or a ram-raid attack on a City Road cash kiosk?

So what's gong on here? A smashed kiosk is roped off with police tape, sides leaning drunkenly, wires trailing loose and debris scattered around. People stop and take pictures on their iPhones, speculate about what might have happened and move on. The kiosk has signs proclaiming 'Free' and 'Cash Withdrawals' and the company name, 'Cashzone (Every transaction counts)'. A smaller sticker reads 'Ink Stain System Fitted' and, confusingly, 'No Smoking'. The kiosk itself seems to be a converted telephone booth, perhaps not the most suitable use for such a flimsy structure, but the cash machine is still in there, not working, but not noticeably damaged and presumably still full of ten and twenty pound notes. The machine nestles at a angle among the smashed sides, along with an impressively large electric siren and oddly, a bundle of brightly coloured nylon fabric that might be a tent or some kind of safety wear.

Lying behind the rubbish bin, a completely detached sign misleadingly tells you 'Free Cash'. Maybe free cash was the idea behind this, a ram-raid attempt that failed. Cashzone's website reports a recent ram-raid on a convenience store in Warwickshire but doesn't mention this, so maybe it's just the result of bad driving, a lorry reversing inaccurately or a drunken driver losing control. Either way, a graphic reminder that we're not entirely insulated from the possibility of violence.

Warren Street Blues

A grey Thursday morning outside Warren Street Tube station, London, England. Moderately cold with a grey sky and the distinct likelihood of rain. The free magazine guys are busy trying to give away magazines and the bag stall man is busy setting up his stall. Rattling around with his aluminium stepladder, opening up the folding sides of the stall, transforming it like an origami model from a small enclosed kiosk to a much larger covered display, hanging his bags up and plugging in the lights. The ugly mirror glass office block opposite is neatly framed by the curved facades of University College Hospital (more ugly glass, some of it green) and the Underground station (which is dignified brick and Portland stone). There's a row of Boris bikes with wet saddles and few takers. Buses and taxis, lorries and white vans grind past, and a seemingly endless stream of people emerges from the Underground and heads south down Tottenham Court Road, muffled up in hats and scarves, ignoring each other and intent on texting or phone calls, or just focusing directly ahead. All of which might seem thoroughly depressing - at least until a girl in leather hot pants and a red bobble hat glides past inexpertly on her online skates, bumping into people as she goes. I stand still for a moment to take it all in, and strangely enough don't wish I was on a sunny beach in the Mediterranean or stoking up a peat fire in the Outer Hebrides. Think of all those people stuck on a sheep station in the outback or some godforsaken subdivision in the Midwest, let alone all the real hellholes, and just be glad to live somewhere civilised.

Wall to wall iTech

This is Apple trying to hang on to the lion's share of the gadget market. They haven't quite taken over the entire Tube network but it rather feels as if they would if they could. Quite pretty in an abstract way, but surely people must realise - that multicolour effect isn't going to work if you just buy one iPod.

The ghost of Euston Tower

A little tower nestling up against the almost-iconic Euston Tower, once known as the home of Capital Radio. The unfinished residential tower is a dull unreflective grey and features an unattractive and rather pointless basket-weave design. When it's finished it might at least be lit up at night, but for now it looks thoroughly sinister. Just one part of the mishmash of overdevelopment currently going up on the Triton Square / Hampstead Road site.

Cycle chic and bicycle culture

There are as many aspects of bicycle culture as there are kinds of people who ride a bicycle. Sporting types and fitness freaks who never cycle for mundane transportation reasons, only to keep fit and achieve speed or distance targets. People who only cycle to get from A to B and have no interest in bicycles, just ride them. Bicycle collectors who have several bikes, maybe several of the same sort, but hate to get their perfect machines dirty. People who cycle because it's trendy. Gadget enthusiasts who have an expensive bicycle and as many cycling accessories as they can get their hands on: bike clothing, bike bags, bike maintenance kits. Enthusiasts who cycle everywhere and think of themselves as cyclists, read and talk about cycling, wear clothes that match their bike, dream of owning their ultimate bike, whatever that might be. Creative types who are more interested in acquiring new and different bikes than in actually riding them. Timid cyclists who only ride on cycle paths or the pavement. Confident riders who prefer main roads because they are faster - but also ride on the pavement when the road doesn't go where they want to go. Stunt riders. Messengers who ride for a weekly wage. Eccentrics with an eccentrically decorated, battered machine that is something a bit too close a best friend. Individualists who set out to explore the world on two wheels. The common thread is the bicycle itself: a bike requires energy and takes you from door to door, never runs out of fuel, improves your health and fitness if you ride it, needs little looking after and never goes out of fashion. Each subgroup of cyclists contributes something to bicycle culture, above and beyond the bare equipment and the primary purpose for which it is used. That Copenhagen-style Cycle Chic is just scraping the surface.

The path less travelled

This is one of the small gardens in front of Euston station, popular with office workers as well as the deadbeats who frequent the area - a green oasis in between the bus station and the non-stop traffic mayhem on Euston Road. So why the fence blocking off the path? Well, it's just a dirt path crossing the grass by the most direct route, beaten down hard by many years of use, quite muddy in winter but well used by thousands of feet in a hurry. Not any more. Instead of making a proper path where it's obviously wanted, there's a new fence that blocks the route. One day, perhaps, the council might dig it up and put in some grass seed, but for now it looks rather silly.