Yet another monolithic slab of street furniture has appeared in our historic town. This time it’s blue and calls itself Amazon Hub. It has instructions in French and has clearly come lately across La Manche.
“It’s not a hub, it’s an outrage” is one opinion heard recently. “This visual horror is now sitting in the station car park. Is one of your investigative journalists interested in following it up in some way? Is it a clever financial deal between the railway and Amazon? Did it need planning permission? Will all stations have one? Who wants it? Anyway, it is large, ugly and dominating, and certainly not a hub.”
This part-time volunteer journalist undertook to examine the structure and make an interim report, interim because it is the Christmas holiday period and offices are closed and in national lock-down mode. Further enquiries might encounter aspects of commercial confidentiality such as the nature of Amazon’s contract with Network Rail, but also cast light on other important questions – such as the possible granting of deemed planning consent for the installation.
The machine is akin to a left luggage box, which used to be found at major provincial railway stations and the London termini before the period of IRA bombing closed them all down. Presumably, the pre-notified dispatch number of the Amazon requested article is logged into the key pad and with a “Hey Presto” or “Open Sesame” the locker door swings open to reveal another fleetingly cherished item of must-have possession. The site of the hub next to the recycling point as seen in the picture might give the game away to the cynically minded.
As to who wants it, during my brief period of observation there was no rush of customers, not a soul in sight in fact; but I surmise that it could constitute a desirable adjunct to modern living, especially for those who have let Amazon into their lives and are away from home for much of the day.
And again, to think positive, the object could be a boon for the hard-pressed white van driver who is spared the navigation of Rye’s medieval streets. For the zero-hours contract driver, minutes saved could allow two more drops to be made and a sustainable living earned. On balance, I guess it is here to stay, regardless of all aesthetic objections. Like the wind-farm on Walland Marsh, might we learn to love it?
Image Credits: F Baldwin .