Category: London

Tuesday’s tube

On By Conversations with StrangersIn London, Travel/vacations1 Comment

The lady driver this morning was from Ireland, unmistakeably. Thank the Lord for Irish humour.  People tried not to smile, but by the time we got to Oxford Street laughter could be heard.  Laughter! On the tube!

Her monologue went something like this:

‘Okay, move down the carriages – plenty of room.

‘Right, there was a signal failure on the district line near Fulham earlier, but that was two hours ago so no need to stress out about that’.

‘Now, at Edgeware road there’s only one lift operating – so women and children first.  Just kidding.  Anyway I’m not sure how many there are – two maybe? So when they’re working that’s how many there are…I think’.

‘Okay, we’re approaching Marylebone.  Now this is what I call the tears and tantrums station; people come in from the overground and there’s always a rush to get on and off the train and a very crowded platform.  I’ll keep you informed as we approach the station and let you know what it’s like today’.

‘Right. I’m just going around the corner, oh yeah, it’s pretty busy, hold on to your hats.  Okay, now you might have to get off the train to let others get on – but don’t worry, I can see you – I won’t leave you behind…. okay – everybody on? For the fella at the end of the platform – Mate, do you want to jump on now, we’re about to leave?’.

‘Right, I’m about to close the doors, make sure your bags, ties, coats, whatever aren’t in the way – don’t have me calling the little Japanese men now to poke you all in with a stick.  That’s grand’. .

‘Okay.  Now we’re almost at Oxford Circus.  Em, I’m sure you’re already aware there’s works going on at this station, it means you can’t get into the station before 10.30 because there’s too many people – and the escalators….well.  Anyway it’s going on until next Spring, so get used to it’.

Everyone off?  Have a great day and thanks for using the Bakerloo line’.

Who wears the pants?

On By Conversations with StrangersIn London, SportLeave a comment

Completely overexcited at the line up, E and I could barely contain ourselves as we watched Rafa warm up on the outside courts. ‘E, E, check out Rafa’s warm up top’.  White, long sleeved and baby soft finest supima cotton (I guessed) with the words:  ‘TENNIS’ above the inevitable tick.

We were already having fun and play hadn’t even started yet.

‘£3 for a bottle of water?!’ I said to the sweet guy serving at the coffee bar.  ‘Um, yeah, I’m afraid so’ ‘What – how much for the brownie – like £30?’ E and I were in hysterics at this point as we proceeded to guess the price of everything on the menu.  We settled for a couple of coffees and thought about how much our champagne break might set us back later in the day.  ‘I guess you may have to re-mortgage for the Veuve, E’ I said.

Play commenced and we were treated to a sublime set of matches.  By the time Rafa came on in his trademark neon gear, I was fully focused on the attire of the players, or more specifically, the pants.

Extraordinary scenes ensued of both Rafa and our favourite Scot, wrestling with their knickers.  Who’d have thought it could be so hard to find a pair that fitted properly?  Rafa’s opponent didn’t appear to be wearing any! What was this about, I wondered. And, was the amount of knicker action directly in proportion to the magnitude of the star?

Late in the evening, E and I complimented the umpire on stopping the match as darkness fell ‘Well, sometimes you have to, although the guy who’s on a winning streak always wants to carry on’ he said.  Flashbulbs popped, and suddenly there he was.  The man who started the day for us, was ending it: Rafa.  As he graciously signed autographs, I looked at him and thought magnitude, pants – I think we know who wears them.