The inevitable return of Mornington Crescent

[ComeIntoTheGardenMaud]

As winter approaches and the nights draw in, one’s thoughts naturally turn to wholesome, homely entertainment. Instead, though, I invite experienced players and novices alike to join me in a game of Mornington Crescent.

To keep the pace gentle, I’ll begin with an inverse Lepton to

Seven Sisters

All I can say , or offer is Brent Cross (I think the Archbishop would approve)

I am sure the Archbishop is playing this game of games under a pseudonym. I doubt if he or she will reveal this though. There was a bishop whose participation in the 1955 London tournament was only revealed posthumously.

Belsize Park as a short distance move.

I went to school in Belsize Park...the heady smell of a rubber netball, the mere glimpse of a plimsoll, and I am thrown back to the days of my youth. What chums, what larks.

Ah me.

Using a combination of Advent and Stovold's Sunday Reverse, my gimlet eye lands on Bishopsgate.

The closed stations rule is allowed on the first Sunday, I believe?

I’ve consulted the Comprehensive Edition of the rule book (1998 printing) Tragic and I think you are on firm ground there.

This enables me to make a simple diagonal to St Paul’s

In that case @TragicMuse, I see you Charing Cross (Northern Line) aka Strand. Aha!

And I play Trafalgar Square aka Charing Cross (Bakerloo line).

Ahhhhhh British Museum!!

Really? Late on a Sunday? I’ve rarely seen such a cavalier disregard for the Murphy Dictum but it does at least enable me to move to

Tottenham Court Road

In good time for the shops to open, Bond Street.

The Murphy Dictum?? I see where you are going so in that case I am invoking the 2001 amendments and am going for Golders Green

The Murphy Dictum has served me well for very many years. Indeed, I was there when Lord Murphy of Cricklewood coined it, at the Lausanne play-offs in 1963. Were he still with us, I’m sure he would now advocate an advanced longitudinal swerve to

Chancery Lane

What some call cavalier disregard I like to refer to as slipping in just as the barrier falls! Gets the adrenaline going...

Citing Dorrit's Advantage to get out from being in Chancery for too long, it's a straight line to Turnpike Lane.

Well, if it’s adrenaline you crave, I suggest the MC signature cocktail of absinthe, crème de menthe and WD40 and a swift Hopkins turn to

White Hart Lane

That'll clear the passages nicely!

Might I posit Stockwell?

There’s been some very cavalier play recently, but the MC cocktail may account for it. Personally I never consume mixed drinks (especially those featuring WD40) before 6pm.

Newman reverse to Sloane Square

Had the game of games existed in the time of John Henry Newman, I am confident he would have been a good player. I think South Kensington is the station he would have called his home station, so I shall move there.

That would, obviously, be an ecumenical matter, for which I will adjourn to

Limehouse

I'm heading to Aldgate East on this chilly Tuesday morning.

Top tip - substitute the creme de menthe for advocaat topped with mini marshmallows for a festive cocktail. It needs a thorough shaking to avoid that curdled catsick look, but the effort is rewarding.

Interesting use of the DLR rule. I'm no expert on cocktails unlike many who play the game of games, but do have strong opinions on brutalist architecture. So will go to look at an example at Barbican.

Hmmmmm...

Oval.

I like your style, TragicMuse. Let’s get geometrical …

Russell Square

Well if you're getting geometric!!
All I can say is Farringdon

Oh niiiiiice!

I think it's going to have to be Strand. Can't see any other option that doesn't put me in nid, shunt us into knockings or land us back in Chancery. I can't employ Dorrit a second time, that was clearly frowned on the last time I attempted it. And no small wonder, coming, as it did, hard on the heels of a double Stovold's Arrow on the old Broad Street line.

I can't begin to describe the impact on a tender young debutante making her debut at the game of games, coming fact-to-face with a room full of practiced matrons peering over the top of their pince-nez. I've never been quite sure if it was admiration at the sheer damned luck or censure at the cheek. The Contessa was proud, of course, but such is the nature of a proud Nonna. And we did have a chuckle later, over a small glass of Ratafia.

<peers over top of pince-nez>

Notting Hill Gate