Tube Travails
Delays on the Northern Line today due to signal problems at Kennington. Trudged up to the mainline station. What with the coldness, greyness and prevalence of Polish spoken all around me, there was a definite feel of our-infrastructure-is-crumbling-here-behind-the-Iron-curtain-Jerzy.
Reading Jakob Walter: Diary of a Napoleonic Footsoldier. Felt a bit like a Napoleonic footsoldier myself, again thanks to all the Polish. The expansion of the EU has brought a welcome touch of Slavic fantasy to my daily commute.
Delays on the Central Line due to a person under a train in the evening. No-one batted an eyelid as the announcement came over the tannoy, not even to complain. Said a little RIP to myself. It seems sad that someone should die so horribly and no-one can even be bothered to react.
Was on my way to have a drink with the Moaning Accountant (is there any other kind?) at Fifteen in Clerkenwell. Felt very trendy. Remember when LSS used to work around Old Street and the best thing you could get to eat around there was a bacon sandwich from the hole-in-the-wall in Old Street station. Now it's all goat's cheese risotto (too salty) and ragu of Snowdonian lamb (too unctuous), but what can you expect from food cooked by people with no life skills.
Unlike me what am so super-educated and an all round polished city sophisticate.
I know no more about Wagner than I did this morning. Except that the only Wagner that the HMV in Canary Square sells is a small CD of his greatest hits. Huh.
Reading Jakob Walter: Diary of a Napoleonic Footsoldier. Felt a bit like a Napoleonic footsoldier myself, again thanks to all the Polish. The expansion of the EU has brought a welcome touch of Slavic fantasy to my daily commute.
Delays on the Central Line due to a person under a train in the evening. No-one batted an eyelid as the announcement came over the tannoy, not even to complain. Said a little RIP to myself. It seems sad that someone should die so horribly and no-one can even be bothered to react.
Was on my way to have a drink with the Moaning Accountant (is there any other kind?) at Fifteen in Clerkenwell. Felt very trendy. Remember when LSS used to work around Old Street and the best thing you could get to eat around there was a bacon sandwich from the hole-in-the-wall in Old Street station. Now it's all goat's cheese risotto (too salty) and ragu of Snowdonian lamb (too unctuous), but what can you expect from food cooked by people with no life skills.
Unlike me what am so super-educated and an all round polished city sophisticate.
I know no more about Wagner than I did this morning. Except that the only Wagner that the HMV in Canary Square sells is a small CD of his greatest hits. Huh.
posted by FBT at 11:07 pm
2 Comments:
Re: the person under the train
People living in a big city tend to be indifferent towards incidents like this. However, it's possible there were other people like you who felt bad about the person who died. They just didn't show it perhaps.
In Toronto, they don't announce what actually happened when someone jumped the track. They would come up with other excuses, like signal problem.
Oooh, we just got back from Toronto. Took the train/subway almost every day but were fortunate enough not to have any signal problem delays.
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