Travelling On The Sardine Express

Ah the tube. One of the best ways to get around London if you avoid early morning, evenings and the Olympics! Come 5pm everyone piles out of their offices and onto an underground train to get home. I mean everyone.

On the way home on day 3 I found myself squashed onto a tube hurtling along a tunnel to the next stop where the platform was jam packed with more people. I was praying that no one else got on but the doors opened and people barged their way into space I couldn’t see existed. So, on we went to the next stop where about one person got off and another twenty tried to get on. The conductor announced ‘this train is now full and must depart!’ ‘Yes’ I thought to myself, ‘ if the doors stay open any longer people will start falling out!’

Cut to 10 minutes later, nearly home, and we’d arrived at another stop where a woman got on and asked us all to ‘budge up’. So the sardines got closer together, uncomfortably close. Then the sound of a motorbike revving came from someone’s pocket, presumably a mobile phone ringtone which the person was unable to answer due to being squashed so tightly in.

As we neared my stop, I noticed a lady standing with a ginormous bag on the floor taking up the space of at least two people by tube standards. So while she had the space to swing a cat in, the rest of us were stuck together like glue (and not by choice).

I was so relieved to breathe fresh air when I got off that I practically skipped back, except I didn’t skip because that would look extremely silly, especially as I was in a suit and on my own. Got to keep up appearances, you know!

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