Today the whole city laboured under yet another Tube strike. For the regular bus traveller like me, this normally doesn’t cause too much inconvenience. The bus is generally a bit fuller and it takes a bit longer as the whole of London climbs into its cars and onto its bikes and tries to navigate to … Continue reading »
Tagged with tube …
Labour of love
Gonna withdraw my labour of love Gonna strike for the right to get into your cold heart Ain’t gonna work for you no more Ain’t gonna work for you no more Hue and Cry There was a Tube strike yesterday in London and the whole city literally groaned. Strikes make life a little bit more … Continue reading »
Pockets of joy
Earlier this week I wrote about Monday being pseudo-scientifically the unhappiest day of the year. But this week has actually been filled with little pockets of gladness. I’ve been taking the Tube in to work (after a disaster with a lost Oyster, and therefore travelcard, last week) for the first time in ages. I’d forgotten … Continue reading »
Christmas carols with a twist
Sometimes I do wonder about myself and why I volunteer to get myself into ridiculous situations. Need someone to do something slightly silly or potentially humiliating in public? I’m there, drawn by some strange magnetism. So it was that I found myself standing outside Clapham South Tube station last night, alone, with a tin of … Continue reading »
What goes around comes around
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to … Continue reading »
12: the evangelist of the number 63 bus
I’ve mentioned before that I’m taking the bus these days instead of the Tube before. It’s quiet in the office at the moment so I’m leaving dead on 5.30, which means I can catch the 63 instead of the 45. All thrilling information I know. The 63 heads straight for the river down Farringdon Street … Continue reading »
17: treasure hunting
It’s easy to forget, living in a city where everyone maintains strict control over their personal space, no one makes eye contact if they can help it, and you definitely, definitely don’t disturb the concentrated peace and talk on the Tube first thing in the morning, that the people who live here are actually pleasant, … Continue reading »
18: 73, 9, RV1, 35, 337…
…or Kings Cross to Oxford Street, Piccadilly to Aldwych, Waterloo Bridge to London Bridge, Borough to Clapham Junction, East Sheen to Clapham Common – these were the buses and the journeys I made yesterday afternoon and evening. We’ve got an intern in the office who can’t understand why I take the bus. Apparently that kind … Continue reading »
19: rain, rain, rain, rain
Apparently a month’s worth of rain fell in a day today. Straight down from the clouds at ninety degrees to the pavement rain, that flooded our over-concreted streets and created mini-streams and ditches in the gutters. Van drivers had the delight of spraying pedestrians without having to drive very fast and people huddled under lintels … Continue reading »
21: thud
‘And then I woke up, and it had all been a dream.’ When I was at school, we used to get told off for finishing stories off by making out they had all been a dream. But as soon as the wheels hit the tarmac at Stansted airport, it really did feel like that strange … Continue reading »
