Stopping for Breath
Another week has passed. Another week without writing. Another week filled with trains, crowds, cities, code, computers, stress, and unimaginable tiredness.
As low as I might have felt from time to time, everything changed mid-week when the train carrying me home from London slowed to a stop at Slough station.
For a time we sat restless, imagining perhaps some problem with the engine, or with the track. Suddenly an announcement broke the murmuring silence, and everybody strained to make out it's words. Passengers near windows wrenched them open, but it was too late and we all sat in frustrationfor a few moments at least.“Once again, we apologise for stopping services this eveningthis is due to a train striking a person in the Tywford area”.
Silence. Absolute silence.
For the next hour while we sat and made small talk with each other nobody complained, and nobody grew restless. People pulled books from their bags and made the best of things. I looked across at another train stopped on an adjacent platform. I could see a furious businessman leaning from a sliding window, craning to see up and down the railway platform. I imagine he thought himself far more important than anybody else.
Towards the end of the week I had to travel back into London again, and confront the chaos caused by the London Underground staff being on strike. Passing the time on the train towards Paddington I flicked through friends posts on Twitter, and discovered photo after photo of whiteboards placed in the closed underground stations.
One read “have fun getting to workwe don't give a shit if we have ruined your day or lost you money”.
Three quarters of the staff of the London Underground didn't vote to strike. Those in charge basically brought the London transport system to it's knees to protest at people being moved from jobs behind counters to jobs interacting with customers. A quarter of the staff went to the pub, and gloated over the chaos they caused.
While I avoided one day of the strike, I had to travel on the second day, and walked across London. I didn't actually mind at all, because the journey took me through Hyde Park, and Kensington Gardens (of Peter Pan fame). While I didn't have time to stop, I smiled as I caught site of the copse of trees in the distance that shield the statue of Peter.