The Time Out London blog team

Ever lost a tenner on the tube? It may well have ended up in Transport for London’s cavernous Lost Property Office in Baker Street. Any money found on TfL services gets taken here, along with bags, phones, umbrellas and anything else left in a tube carriage, bus or black cab. If it’s not claimed within 12 months (three for cabs), it goes towards the office’s running costs. And all those tenners add up: in 2016/17, the office’s revenue from unclaimed cash was £203,583. That’s just one of the things we’ve learned from the LPO’s latest geektastic data release. Here are a few more. The most frequently lost items are books, documents and cards. TfL found 92,631 last year, more than a quarter of all lost items. They also dealt with 10,064 umbrellas, 34,322 phones and 50,425 bits of clothing. Most items get lost on buses: 55 percent of the total in 2016/17, compared to 42 percent on the tube, Overground and DLR combined. The tube percentage was up slightly on last year, though – maybe because we have a night tube now, and that means more drunk people forgetting their keys, wallets, phones and basic human dignity. As well as that unclaimed cash revenue, the LPO raised £256,754 from selling unclaimed property at auction. Anything that isn’t worth auctioning gets given to charity. All in all, a whopping 286,994 items were handled by the Lost Property Office last year. And less than a quarter of all lost property was reclaimed – so if you’ve left a priceless painting in the back

It’s tricky for a city like London to clean up its act, but little ideas can lead to big changes. The Edible Bus stop is transforming London’s transport network into leafy, green spaces Tiny parks? Cute! How did those come about? It’s thanks to Mak Gilchrist and Will Sandy. They are two Londoners on a mission to transform bland urban spaces into municipal oases.  How? The pair set up the Edible Bus Stop project. It was in response to a planning proposal to build on the only green space in Gilchrist’s neighbourhood – a strip of land near a bus stop. They fought back through guerilla gardening (that’s planting patches of neglected land without permission).  I guess their illicit gardening worked, then? Yep. The proposal was turned down and that led to a whole host of wacky pocket gardens popping up at uncared-for sites along the 322 bus route from Clapham Common to Crystal Palace.  What’s next on the agenda? The group have turned their attention to our city’s Underground stations, planting mini tropical parks in disused ticket offices. ‘We can’t all afford time to go to big green spaces like Hyde Park,’ says Sandy, ‘so we are injecting green into people’s daily commutes.’  Where have they managed to do it? Take a look at the ticket office at St James’s Park station’s Palmer Street entrance. You’ll see a mini rainforest full of glossy red anthurium and delicate white orchids in mirrored grow units.  Sounds cool. Why’s it good for us? ‘When we first went into the tick

Can't decide between skiing and rollerblading? Isabelle Aron gives roller skiing a whirl Trying not to think about the ways in which I could embarrass myself, I head to Hyde Park on a Saturday to attempt to do something called roller skiing. Never seen a roller ski? Imagine a comically small pair of fluorescent yellow skis (the size you might see on a toddler whizzing down an Alp) with a wheel at each end. Then imagine wearing those skis in public. Yep. I have one aim: don’t end up flat on my face at one of London’s biggest tourist attractions. The instructor swaddles me in elbow and knee pads, a helmet, gloves, poles and boots which clip into the skis. All the padding has me a little worried. ‘Am I going to fall over?’ I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. The instructor tells me that although beginners do fall down, we won’t be going fast, so if I do come a cropper it won’t hurt that much. Only one way to find out… Scott Chasserot       On the path alongside the Serpentine, I start off using just one roller ski, kicking the floor with my other foot to propel myself along. After a few drills, it’s time to stick on the other ski, which prompts me to ask the instructor: How do I stop? Turns out that, unlike rollerblades, roller skis don’t have brakes. You’re just supposed to slow down. It doesn’t fill me with confidence about not ending up in a heap on the ground. Still, I’m already turning a few heads. Once I stop feeling self-conscious, I realise that roller skiing