London commuting
This morning, I went to take the Tube to work for the first time. I thought I’d get an unlimited monthly pass, which they call an oystercard, at the Baker Street Station. That proved to be harder to do than I’d thought. They don’t sell these unlimited passes at the ATM-like vending machines; you have to stand in line and talk to the attendant. When I finally made it to the front of the line, I was told I had to fill out a form. I wanted to ask WHY THE FORM but there were many people in line behind me, so I merely stood to the side and filled in my name, address, email, and mother’s maiden name. All the letters had to be capitals, and they had to go in the appropriate boxes; it took some time.
It was 8:50 a.m. While I was busy writing, there was an announcement on the station PA: “because of a traction problem, all service on the east- and west-bound Hammersmith, Circle, and East London lines has been suspended. We apologize for this inconvenience. Passengers are encouraged to use bus transportation.” A traction problem? It was raining, but why would a subway have a traction problem? But my supervisor had warned about these subway lines, which are the three that go directly to my office. “They’re slow and unreliable,” she said. So I figured this was normal. In fact, everybody in the station was ignoring the announcement, and streaming into the tube as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Once I finally got my card, I followed them in, taking the Jubilee line south to Bond Street, where I transferred to the Central line eastbound. The conductor announced that the train would be bypassing Bank and Liverpool stations which were closed due to an incident earlier that morning. I had been planning on going to Bank, as, I imagined, had many of my fellow passengers, and I listed for sighs of disgust. There were none, though. Apparently this, too, was normal. The passengers kept on as if nothing had happened, reading the news of London’s successful Olympic bid over each other’s shoulders. In the pictures, Tony Blair had absolutely the biggest grin on his face, so big he couldn’t possibly have been faking, I thought.
We made it two station-stops, to Holborn, before the conductor made another announcement: “Because of a wide-spread power failure through all of central London, this entire train line will be going out of service. Passengers are advised to use bus transportation.” It was now 9:25 and I was supposed to arrive for my first day of work at 9:30. I began to grow annoyed, but I looked about and still everybody around me seemed utterly passive. No sarcasm, no swearing. It really looked like everybody had been planning to get off at the Holborn stop all the time. So I followed suit, calmly taking escalator after escalator until I finally emerged at street level. There I saw policemen sealing off the down escalators, and heard the PA say, “because of a security alert, this station is being evacuated. Please leave the station immediately.” The exit gates had all swung open, which I gathered was not normal, and there was a low-volume alarm sound, but nobody looked alarmed.
I set out on foot to the office, but progress was slow. First I went three blocks in the wrong direction, but even after ten minutes in the right direction I still had a long way to go, so I boarded a bus that seemed to be headed my way. I noticed that the lights were on in the shops — no sign of a power failure. At 9:50, very late to work, I finally got off the bus and walked the last few blocks to the office. Heading up an alley — or mew, as I gather they call them here — I heard a shopkeeper calling on her cellphone say, “I just wanted to let you know I’m all right.” She said “apparently there’s been an explosion, but I’m fine.” This was the first suggestion I had heard that this was not a typical morning in the London Tube.
It was 8:50 a.m. While I was busy writing, there was an announcement on the station PA: “because of a traction problem, all service on the east- and west-bound Hammersmith, Circle, and East London lines has been suspended. We apologize for this inconvenience. Passengers are encouraged to use bus transportation.” A traction problem? It was raining, but why would a subway have a traction problem? But my supervisor had warned about these subway lines, which are the three that go directly to my office. “They’re slow and unreliable,” she said. So I figured this was normal. In fact, everybody in the station was ignoring the announcement, and streaming into the tube as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Once I finally got my card, I followed them in, taking the Jubilee line south to Bond Street, where I transferred to the Central line eastbound. The conductor announced that the train would be bypassing Bank and Liverpool stations which were closed due to an incident earlier that morning. I had been planning on going to Bank, as, I imagined, had many of my fellow passengers, and I listed for sighs of disgust. There were none, though. Apparently this, too, was normal. The passengers kept on as if nothing had happened, reading the news of London’s successful Olympic bid over each other’s shoulders. In the pictures, Tony Blair had absolutely the biggest grin on his face, so big he couldn’t possibly have been faking, I thought.
We made it two station-stops, to Holborn, before the conductor made another announcement: “Because of a wide-spread power failure through all of central London, this entire train line will be going out of service. Passengers are advised to use bus transportation.” It was now 9:25 and I was supposed to arrive for my first day of work at 9:30. I began to grow annoyed, but I looked about and still everybody around me seemed utterly passive. No sarcasm, no swearing. It really looked like everybody had been planning to get off at the Holborn stop all the time. So I followed suit, calmly taking escalator after escalator until I finally emerged at street level. There I saw policemen sealing off the down escalators, and heard the PA say, “because of a security alert, this station is being evacuated. Please leave the station immediately.” The exit gates had all swung open, which I gathered was not normal, and there was a low-volume alarm sound, but nobody looked alarmed.
I set out on foot to the office, but progress was slow. First I went three blocks in the wrong direction, but even after ten minutes in the right direction I still had a long way to go, so I boarded a bus that seemed to be headed my way. I noticed that the lights were on in the shops — no sign of a power failure. At 9:50, very late to work, I finally got off the bus and walked the last few blocks to the office. Heading up an alley — or mew, as I gather they call them here — I heard a shopkeeper calling on her cellphone say, “I just wanted to let you know I’m all right.” She said “apparently there’s been an explosion, but I’m fine.” This was the first suggestion I had heard that this was not a typical morning in the London Tube.
previously there was Punto Final
afterwards you have Ofrenda
comments
piyali
you are so, so fortunate. . .i'm sure it makes you appreciate all the people you care for back home (such as your beautiful, awesome wife!)
[submitted on 08 Jul 05]
maria V
I swear it wasn't me who wrote the comment but... thank you Piyali!!
[submitted on 08 Jul 05]
rapunzel
Espinosa, stop throwing flowers yourself!!!!
[submitted on 08 Jul 05]
ANGEL
rapunzel stop hurting people for free!, what kind of human being are you?...one of the worsest i think.
[submitted on 03 Nov 05]
cristian
I miss unglued...
[submitted on 19 Nov 06]