Groundhog Day
So, I'm travelling on the tube, returning from visiting Mac in hospital. It's late night, I'm alone and I'm on unfamiliar territory. I'm feeling uneasy, to say the least.
I have two changes to make, but the route is clear in my head. All I need to concern myself with is potential muggers, rapists and weirdos.
I make it to Baker Street, no problem. I now require a train, any train, going right (a.k.a. Eastbound) to King's Cross.
West is left, East is right, I chant to myself as I follow the signs.
I find the Metropolitan line, with the Westbound platform clearly labelled. There's no sign on the opposite side, but there's a train about to leave - no time to check - I'm sure it's fine.
I find a seat opposite an impossibly big-boned man eating a bag of crisps. Perfect! He'll be too interested in the crisps to bother me.
My next stop should be Great Portland Street. It's a long time coming. I wait patiently, trying to ignore the crisp man and his incongruous bag of sports equipment.
Ten minutes later and the station approaches and it's...Finchley Road. Arse.
I leave calmly. I cross over to the other platform. There's nothing to see here people - this happens all the time.
Luckily, my Eastbound train is soon here. Ten minutes later and I'm back with my old friend Baker Street.
Everybody gets off. Except moi. Still, I haven't been mugged, raped or weirdoed yet - that's the main thing.
More people get on. We wait. I look mean and scary and unapproachable. Eventually we depart - I'm finally on my way home.
Ten minutes later we pull into the station. I look out of the window and it's...FINCHLEY ROAD. Aaaarrrggghhh!
I am seriously freaked out. For a few seconds I actually believe that I'm trapped in a time warp / horror film / bad dream.
I snap out of it just in time to get off the train, and make my way glumly across to the other platform.
Ten minutes later I am back at Baker Street. This time I ensure that the train doesn't terminate and turn back. King's Cross, when it finally looms, has never looked so good.
I have two changes to make, but the route is clear in my head. All I need to concern myself with is potential muggers, rapists and weirdos.
I make it to Baker Street, no problem. I now require a train, any train, going right (a.k.a. Eastbound) to King's Cross.
West is left, East is right, I chant to myself as I follow the signs.
I find the Metropolitan line, with the Westbound platform clearly labelled. There's no sign on the opposite side, but there's a train about to leave - no time to check - I'm sure it's fine.
I find a seat opposite an impossibly big-boned man eating a bag of crisps. Perfect! He'll be too interested in the crisps to bother me.
My next stop should be Great Portland Street. It's a long time coming. I wait patiently, trying to ignore the crisp man and his incongruous bag of sports equipment.
Ten minutes later and the station approaches and it's...Finchley Road. Arse.
I leave calmly. I cross over to the other platform. There's nothing to see here people - this happens all the time.
Luckily, my Eastbound train is soon here. Ten minutes later and I'm back with my old friend Baker Street.
Everybody gets off. Except moi. Still, I haven't been mugged, raped or weirdoed yet - that's the main thing.
More people get on. We wait. I look mean and scary and unapproachable. Eventually we depart - I'm finally on my way home.
Ten minutes later we pull into the station. I look out of the window and it's...FINCHLEY ROAD. Aaaarrrggghhh!
I am seriously freaked out. For a few seconds I actually believe that I'm trapped in a time warp / horror film / bad dream.
I snap out of it just in time to get off the train, and make my way glumly across to the other platform.
Ten minutes later I am back at Baker Street. This time I ensure that the train doesn't terminate and turn back. King's Cross, when it finally looms, has never looked so good.
- Total journey time: 1.5 hours.
- Distance travelled: approximately 5 miles.
3 Comments:
I was going for an open day at Queen Marys University, and needed to get off at mile end. Now, Mile End is on the red (Victoria line - I think) and the Pink (City and Hammersmith Line). So I get on a pink train at paddington but they suddenly announce that it is going to terminate at Liverpool Street halfway through the journey. So, I end up stuck at Liverpool street trying to find a train that will goto Mile End.
The tube, sucks at times.
You got home in one piece. Just tell yourself you got home. The tube freaks me out some times too.
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