London, UK. It’s a rainy Friday night, it’s dark out and freezing – well, still 12°C but most people tend to wrap themselves in thick scarves, hats and gloves. I’m near Oxford street, on my way to see a friend; and I’m not the only one out there as you can imagine! The weekend is just about to start, the shopping centers are still open, and the crowds are heading home.
I need to get some cash before I head off. Luckily, I spotted an ATM. Unluckily, it doesn’t have any cash left after I queued for 15 minutes in the rain! I’ll find another one somewhere on my way, I suppose.
I continue walking, reach bus stop BY and get on the bus. I manage to find myself a seat, get rid of my backpack and sit down. That very moment, though, the bus driver jumps off his seat, runs out of the bus and down the street. “This doesn’t work! I don’t know why this doesn’t work!”
Silence.
Two minutes later, he returns. He settles down on his seat, closes the doors, starts indicating. … We don’t move. The driver gets even more wrought up (if this is still possible), jumps off his seat again, opens the doors and ensures he’s got no idea what’s going on.
I don’t either. But I know that I’m probably quicker when I get off the bus and take advantage of the open doors. Back in the rain, I walk towards Oxford Street. Once I arrive, I immediately see what’s going on — or, more precisely, what’s not going: traffic (apart from some cyclists who totally enjoy their freedom). Buses and cabs are standing in either direction; their doors open, the drivers gone. Awkward.
I’m walking down the street. Fed up with the plashy umbrella obstacle course, I decide to switch to the tube. I oyster my way through the barrier into the station and let the escalator take me under the ground. Trying to avoid bumping into people I follow the signs to westbound services on the central line. CCTV is watching me.
My way ends, though, rather sudden. People are jammed somewhere in the middle of the walkway to my platform. I cannot even see the tracks from here!
“Please move along the platform.”
“Please stay behind the yellow line.”
“Please don’t leave any luggage unattended.”
“Please keep your personal belonging with you at all times.”
What’s going on? Should I get back out? Maybe. But as it has already become impossible once people jammed behind me, I don’t entertain that thought any further.
“Let them off the train first!”
“Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.”
“Let passengers off the train first.”
“Please use all available doors.”
“Please move right down inside the cart.”
“Let them off first!”
“Stand clear of the closing doors.”
“Mind the doors please.”
“Your next train is 2 minutes.”
“For your personal safety and security, CCTV is in use throughout London Underground.”
It takes me about three trains, until I can finally approach to a door and enter. I grab a pole and hope it’s gonna be a quick journey, such that I will not lose consciousness due to oxygen deprivation. The train doors close, they open again. “Please do NOT obstruct the doors!” They close again, open again. “PLEASE! Ladies and Gentlemen, I said please do NOT OBSTRUCT THE DOOOOORRRRS!” I’ve never heard conductor so angry before. The doors close. Eventually. “Thank you,” sings her relieved but slightly annoyed voice through the speakers.
We start moving. Slowly. People are standing too close to the train for it to depart. A couple of more announcements follow before we finally leave the station. This procedure is about the same at every single stop. It takes forever. I decide to get off the tube and back into the rain rather than stay down here for another hour or so. Meanwhile, I should be close to Tottenham Court Road where I hope to catch a bus.
After struggling through a buggy, a man’s tuba, a dog, and a drunken old lady, I manage to get off. On may way out, I see people queuing to even enter the subway to the station! It’ still raining, but at least I can breathe!
Arriving at the bus stop, an extra sign informs me: “This bus stop is not in use.” Nice! I walk up the street where the bus would supposedly be going and plan to catch it at the next stop.
10 minutes later, I reach that next stop. No 58 bus passed me in the meantime. Not too good a sign, as it’s supposed to be going every 2 to 3 minutes. Since this bus stop is too crowded to get me under cover, I’m waiting in the rain again.
15 minutes pass. No bus. I finally give up on public transport, wished my bike hadn’t got stolen and start walking to my friend’s house. Only 40 minutes later I reach the locked entrance gate. Waiting in the rain, again! But now, for the first time today, I know it’ll be successful. I drag out my cell phone and tell my friend I made it!
