Monday, December 11, 2006
When delays to the Central Line westbound are not detrimental to your mental well-being
Yesterday I get to my tube station and see that there are no delays on the Central Line, but severe delays to the District. Not a worry methinks, I can go to Stratford and get the Jubilee Line. If only, if only. Because in the time it took from me doing my Oyster card to getting to the platform, the Central Line had cocked up. Seriously, that must have been all of 40 seconds. Signal failure of Newbury Park, so I decide to bus it to Ilford and get the overland to Stratford. I hope you all appreciate getting this intimate knowledge of my daily journey.
Being surprisingly awake (I have recently changed my working hours) I go to a bus station at which I actually have an outside chance of getting a seat, as opposed to the guaranteed bundle you normally see exclusively at Indian train stations in old movies. Well I end up within earshot (a conservative estimate would be that said earshot was about 5 miles either way) of a real, old Uncle Albert sea-faring sort. Yes, our Captain Birdseye knows a thing or two about world culture and religion asking a non-white what religion they were and upon hearing the answer said: "Boooodhist? Nah, we don't get too many Boooodhists round here. Course I seen a lot of them temples in Ceylon and places like that. Served in the war, didn't I? Oh but Ceylon and that tsunami. Terrible, just terrible." And the old boy had certainly had his 3 weetabix because he didn't let up for the whole ride; in no uncertain terms making clear his views on being a racist ("Now I aint no racist"), war ("I hate war") and the differences between Islam, Hinduism, Judaism and Christianity ("For me there aint no difference between your Muslims, Indians, Jews and Whites. I don't like religion")
Sadly, no such characters on the overland or the Jubilee Line
Being surprisingly awake (I have recently changed my working hours) I go to a bus station at which I actually have an outside chance of getting a seat, as opposed to the guaranteed bundle you normally see exclusively at Indian train stations in old movies. Well I end up within earshot (a conservative estimate would be that said earshot was about 5 miles either way) of a real, old Uncle Albert sea-faring sort. Yes, our Captain Birdseye knows a thing or two about world culture and religion asking a non-white what religion they were and upon hearing the answer said: "Boooodhist? Nah, we don't get too many Boooodhists round here. Course I seen a lot of them temples in Ceylon and places like that. Served in the war, didn't I? Oh but Ceylon and that tsunami. Terrible, just terrible." And the old boy had certainly had his 3 weetabix because he didn't let up for the whole ride; in no uncertain terms making clear his views on being a racist ("Now I aint no racist"), war ("I hate war") and the differences between Islam, Hinduism, Judaism and Christianity ("For me there aint no difference between your Muslims, Indians, Jews and Whites. I don't like religion")
Sadly, no such characters on the overland or the Jubilee Line
Labels: London Underground, Uncle Albert, weetabix
