Going Underground

[caddyman]

Ah Friday, best day of the week: weekend is nearly here and it is all anticipation of a good skive - I have nothing planned except perhaps wandering into Finchley to buy a waste paper basket for the bedroom (Oh, I know how to enjoy myself) and watching more football than many would consider sane.

There may be ice lollies, too; depends upon the weather.

The journey into work this morning was rather special. Northern Line to Euston OK; but traipsing around from the Charing Cross branch to the Victoria Line turned out to be pointless as the Victoria Line was suspended south of Warren Street because of signal failure.

Nice to have been warned.

I should have wandered back to the Northern Line Charing Cross Branch and made my way to Embankment, but the southbound Bank Branch train was coming in across the platform, so I though changing at Bank would do. The train was hot and crowded, so I bailed out at Monument instead, forgetting that that was on the north side of the Circle Line and that I would have to travel additional five or six stops. Still, it was less crowded and relatively cooler.

But it appears that the Circle and District Lines are subject to severe delays for some reason or other. Ah me. Forty minutes from Euston to Victoria…

And to add insult to injury, I remembered after the event that I could have changed to the Piccadilly Line at King’s Cross and exited at Green Park, leaving me with a pleasant walk down through the park instead of a slow moving heat and sweat fest at the wrong end of the city.

Tra-la.

Oh well, I’m here now. Another coffee beckons and then a smoke. Yes, I shall nip off for a ciggie, I think.

Comments

[bluesman.livejournal.com]

Buy a bicycle, Bwyan. Preferably a sleek, 25-speed racer with a capacious wicker basket on the front. Take a change of clothes with you in a backpack, tie the thing up somewhere inside the building and save hundreds of quid a year. I can picture you trundling through the City in a pith helmet singing lustily, "Hun-ting ti-gahs out in Indi-ah! Deardeardear..."

[caddyman.livejournal.com]

Cor Lumme. I ain't rid bike since I was I did that infamous bone-bearing one-point landing on my elbow after an expedition out to Forton with Tich Campbell when we were at school. Screwed my arm and the bike. Had to sell the latter to pay for the repairs...

I don't think my nerves could cope with the idea of a bike in London, to be honest. If I lived back up in sunny Shropshire I might be more keen.

Now the pith helmet: I have one of those...

[bluesman.livejournal.com]

'Cycling through the City is for only the brave or silly. I did it once a week when I worked in Stoke Newington in the late '80s, to get theatre tickets from the rozzers in a high-rise down by the river. To paraphrase Mr Milligan, those taxi drivers are no respecters of persons.

I vaguely remember your bicycle accident. What the heck were you and Campbell doing way out there? My dad still goes to church in Forton.

[caddyman.livejournal.com]

As I recall, Tich's 1,000 year old granny lived out there in a 900 year old cottage.It had massive stone walls and was like an ice box even at the height of summer.

[bluesman.livejournal.com]

Of course it was. That's Shropshire!