A Day Trip to London

Firstly, lets just get this clear, I used to live in London. I lived in Balham for about 2 years and then South Wimbledon for another 18 months.I had worked in London way before I first moved there – straight from college at 18 in fact! I am no stranger to London!!!
So, why was it, I found myself giddy as a schoolgirl on a train to London for a day class for my CIPD course?
Because I felt like me again!
As I looked around at my fellow passengers, guessing what their story was? Where were they going? Who were they going to meet? I realised that they, too, might be wondering the same about me. Did they know I was married with a son – well the engagement ring and wedding ring might have given away the marriage but what about the rest of me. I was just like them…a stranger, a mystery. For some reason, I don’t feel like this when I’m with Callum. Everyone knows I’m a mother and that’s all they see. That overshadows everything else I might be so being just me, on my own, makes me feel like I’m my own person again. Not just someone’s mother and someone’s wife! I had a life once, I had a job – I used to travel the world as part of my job and I loved it! I feel a long way away from that right now!
So that is why I found myself excited to be venturing on a trip to London.
Giddy with excitement, I bought a little bottle of red wine from the little drinks/food cart. Hmmm, why is it, when I bought/chose a bottle of wine when on my own on a plane, I felt classy but on a train, I felt like a desperate alcoholic. Probably, you might say, is because I am certainly a desperate wino and a close step behind being a desperate alcoholic but, “nah nah nah nah nah” I can’t hear you, I’ve got my fingers in my ears!
I spend a very enjoyable evening with my friend who cooks for me a reminiscent spaghetti bolognaise (used to be a common ‘mince’ theme whenever we (and another friend) got together for dinner in our London days) drinking lots of red wine and then I head off for my course from her house the next day.
Then its the part of London I do not miss! The reason I used to get to work for 8am rather than the expected 9am! The PUBLIC TRANSPORT!!! (sorry for the shouting but they are two words that, in London, make me want to shout). I have an hour to get from Clapham Junction to my course in Portland Place. Theoretically, given that the crow could fly it in about 5 minutes, this should be plenty of time! I get to Clapham Junction and have to let two tins pass before I am rewarded with my own place as a sardine along the other fishy fellows otherwise known as commuters (I’d like to say that was just a metaphor but at the close proximity we shared, I’m not so sure if it was only that). While I twisted my arm backwards to hold on to a bar to stop myself ending up on someone’s lap I had to endure the snooty looks from a lady with enough breathing space to blow a bubble (a premium on these rush hour trains) because I just happened to touch her hair. Are you kidding me woman? Would you rather I lurched forward and hugged you as the train jolted forward because I didn’t break my arm trying to hold on?
Then I get to waterloo and have to make the decision – bus or tube? I need to get to Oxford Street (well Portland Place) so either 4 stops on the Bakerloo line or a shortish journey by bus. Hmmm….which will be quicker? I’ve still 30 mins to make my course so plenty of time for either and even time for picking up brekkie and a cup of tea on the way. I go for tube. I get down to the tube and join the back of the queue no where near the tube platform but I am pleased that after the first train comes and goes, I make it easily onto the platform. I even get a good space. Then I wait, and wait, and people cram in behind me, making the sardine experience of the overland train suddenly feel like the gulf between two strangers on a bench (worlds apart!). I should’ve taken the bus! Too late now! No chance of going back the way I came and all I can do is wait some more! Which is when the announcement comes that not only is the service part suspended on the Southbound train but there are severe delays now on the Northbound train (I’m Northbound). I check the time – 08:56! Its not gonna happen, the course starts at 9am – I’m not getting to my course on time!
Thankfully, I don’t miss anything of importance (as I’d already covered the material they went over first on a previous session) and am only 30-45 minutes late and the person after me was 2-3 hours late.
So after the study day is done, I’m left with a 2 hour wait for my train home (part of the deal to get the cheaper tickets!).
Bearing in mind that while I lived in London, I only saw two famous people – Ainsley Harriet who borrowed my lighter because I smoked the same cigarettes and, I’m clutching at Z list celebs here, Brian (the gay one) from a distance on the Clapham South tube station platform – why did I now find myself on Waterloo Station concourse expecting that, any minute now, a famous person was going to cross my path. Several times I saw a look-a-likey! I’d turned into a non-Londoner – someone that gets over-awed with London and thinks that if you come from London, you must know '”my mate Ian Roberts,he lives in London” and believes that the likes of Kate Moss and Ray Whinstone are casual acquaintance of every Londoner and at the very least real Londoners must bump into them in the street on a weekly basis!
Unsurprisingly, in my two hour wait, no one famous crosses my path and my train eventually appears on the board – platform 11. However, front 4 coaches go to Weymouth, rear 5 coaches go to Bournemouth. So, I jump on nice and early in the first 5 coaches as I get off before Bournemouth at my parent’s in New Milton. Then, just as the train leaves and everyone else has taken their seating/standing position, they announce that those getting off at New Milton (and another several stations) need to be in the front 4 coaches due to short platforms!! I have to leave my nice comfortable seat to wonder up the train in that manner that says “I know how to walk up a moving train” but failing badly as there is a sudden BIG jolt from the train finding me close to sitting on some poor unsuspecting guy’s lap and narrowly missing flattening his laptop with my hand because, ironically, it wasn’t on his lap it was on a table which is where I put my hand to steady myself. Good job it wasn’t his lap as that may have been a tad embarrassing! Thankfully, as I make it to the front carriages, the train is a lot less busy and seats are in abundance so I find another comfortable seat for the remainder of my journey. Feeling tired and a little bit sad that I’m going to wake up tomorrow a Mum again but thinking, I’ve missed my little man.
Then, at 5am the next day as I’m being kicked in the kidneys by aforementioned missed little man, I re-evaluate…is London transport really that bad….?