At TFL, we're making journeys safer for everyone, and that includes improving safety on London's roads.

That's why we and London boroughs are lowering more speed limits to 20 miles per hour,

because 20 miles per hour roads have already reduced collisions resulting in deaths or

serious injuries by 24%. That is how we're making journeys in London safer and brighter for everyone.

Search TFL Improvement Plan to the Mayor of London and TFL every journey matters.

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When I was 18, I had a friend who was really into paranormal stuff, just like me. I won't mention his name since we are no longer friends. Let's call him M. We used to embark on all kinds of adventures to haunted places together and uncanny occurrences seemed to follow us wherever we went. It was as if our energies attracted spirits and other strange phenomena. I have numerous stories I could share,

but one particular incident stands out as the worst. One day, some of my other friends expressed an interest in visiting a place known as Crybaby Bridge. According to the legend, a woman who had a baby outside of wedlock was so ashamed that she drowned her own child and then took her own life by hanging herself from the bridge. Some claimed that if you parked your car on the bridge, you could hear the woman's feet scraping the car's roof.

Or even hear the baby crying. The bridge was also known to be a place where horse thieves were hanged. Despite M's warnings and his bad feeling about the place, I disregarded his advice being young and foolish. I joined my friends on the trip to Crybaby Bridge. There were four of us, and I sat in the back seat while we backed our car onto the bridge, ready to make a sudden escape if needed.

We turned off the engine and sat in silence for about ten minutes. Suddenly, my friend Big Mike decided to challenge any spirits to reveal themselves. At that moment, an icy coldness filled the air and an uneasy feeling washed over me. I couldn't bring myself to look directly out the window, but from the corner of my eye, I could make out the figure of a pale, soaked girl who seemed to be wearing a white nightgown.

She had a long black hair and looked eerie. The next thing I knew, she let out a blood-curdling scream that overwhelmed my senses and everything went dark. It felt as if someone was pushing on my chest, and it seemed like I was being ejected through the back seat. I fought back and struggled to stay in control. When I regained consciousness, I found my friends in a state of panic, and Big Mike was frantically trying to revive

me. They told me that I seemed possessed, growling, and my pupils were dilated. The car initially wouldn't start, but eventually we drove away. My friends pointed out claw marks on the back of the car and handprints on the rear windows. That night, I had a disturbing nightmare of the same girl screaming, and upon waking up, I discovered scratches on my back and arms, terrified and shaken.

I called M and shared my experience. He came over to my house, and together we cleansed the entire place with sage, asking the spirit to leave me and my home in peace. After that, I never encountered her again, and vowed never to return to that bridge, no matter the incentive. I'm uncertain about the identity of the spirit, and I prefer not to know.

Since that encounter, I never engaged in any paranormal activities without M by my side.

I was a volunteer at a historic site from 2000 to 2005. On site, there was a large house, a barn, and some outbuildings all built in the mid-1860s by a couple.

I'll call John and Mary Brown. The house was made of stone, and had a cellar where the meals were prepared, a main floor with a family room, which had a large fireplace and a parlor or sitting room that was used for special occasions such as weddings or funerals, and two large bedrooms upstairs, one for the parents and one for their eight children.

This may sound cramped, but it was pretty grand for the time that it was built in. Later owners added an actual kitchen and dining room on the main floor, as well as two more bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs.

The site was open to the public for house tours on weekends. As a volunteer, I would give tours and tell people the history of the house or give demonstrations of activities of the time, such as cooking in the cellar on the old stove, quilting,

making butter, and things like that. The house was actually built along one of the trails that led west and Mary would cook meals in the cellar kitchen and serve them to people passing through on their way west.

It was kind of like an early restaurant. I always felt like the house had a welcoming atmosphere and never got any bad vibes from it. Visitors would often ask me if the house was haunted or if I ever saw any ghosts. I always had to tell them no.

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