Thursday, March 22, 2001

My love affair with London's public transport system continues. Though this time the delays were mostly of my own making. Yesterday I managed to get into work on (my decided new start) time of 8.45am, despite London Underground's desperate efforts to nix me - slowing the train down, stopping in tunnels etc. Today I set off from the flat at 8.09am, which - given my commute time is 35 minutes - is pushing it to get the 8.45am minibus. (Incidentally, when I say starting at 8.45am I mean getting the shuttle minibus, which takes us radio station workers from Notting Hill to glamorous Bramley Road, at 8.45am - getting me here 5 mins later. The walk would take just over 15 minutes, so if you miss a bus by a minute, you might as well hang around for 15 minutes as you gain nothing by walking. Except for sore feet, perhaps). Recently, due to the closure of the Northern Line entrance at Elephant and Castle, I've walked to Kennington and connected up to the Central Line from there. Confusingly, I used to get the Bakerloo line from Elephant and change at Oxford Circus. Now I get the Northen Line and change at Tottenham Court Road. (Is anyone still remotely interested?) This is all well and good, except that before when changing platforms I used to come down the stairs and hang a right for Westbound services. Now I hang a left. Except for today that is. With my head in the 'soon-to-be-living-in-Australia' clouds I skipped down the steps and headed starboardwards. Doh. I then calmly waited for the next busy train to go through, priding myself on my restraint and thinking 'Well if i get the 9am bus it's OK'. Deeply mesmerised by Daft Punk at quite a high volume, I was oblivious to all announcements and my eyes must have glazed over in antipodean dreams as it took me two stops until I realised we were going the wrong way. Well I was. So I alighted at Chancery Lane and rued my mistake. Nothing to be done except head back westwards and swallow my pride. Best of all? The additional journey time meant I arrived at Notting Hill the usual 1 minute late for the 9am bus, meaning I had my 15 minutes of dead time to fill. Joy to the world. Blond moments? I've had a few. But I'm honestly not normally this dizzy. Am I? (I dare you...)

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