Isn’t London a bizarre little town – the transport system is still buggered, and my favourite and (mainly) true statement to describe most journeys I’ve taken recently is: “I could have walked it quicker”. Yesterday it took me 3 and a half hours to get home from St Pauls, admittedly I had to go via Oxford Street, but still; no less than four number 94 buses passed by, either not stopping at all, or stopping and saying they were full (how can they be full when we can see seats empty?).
In the end I caught the number 10 (of which only one was seen in 45 minutes of waiting on Oxford Street) and took it to Kensington High Street where I then walked from. Today it took me the best part of an hour to get to Hammersmith today from Notting Hill Gate, how can that be? It simply shouldn’t take that long, the District line trundled slowly from Notting Hill Gate to Earls Court, and then from there to Hammersmith.
I could have walked both journeys in a quicker time, which begs the question “why didn’t I?” Well two reasons: first out of sheer laziness, and the second out of belligerence: I pay a fortune in monthly travelcards on top of some of the most expensive council tax bills in the country and yet I still can’t get home on public transport without difficulties, delays and sweaty, ignorant, unhelpful staff. The funny thing is I almost enjoy the struggle to get from place to place, if someone suddenly straightened out all the kinks in the way the tube worked I’d almost be disappointed: perhaps that’s just tunnel fever setting in, who knows?
On a completely unrelated note: Michael Jackson – How disturbed is he? Part of me was sitting there thinking he’s just incredibly naive, another part of me was thinking he’s probably a danger to children, not that I believe that he’s a kiddy fiddler, in fact exactly the opposite, I don’t believe he’d even consider it, what worries me is that he’s so childlike he’s probably damaging the kid’s view of adulthood: and the whole 44 year old sleeping with 13 year old’s is just creepy. It has to be said Martin Bashir is a crap interviewer, his style is so inflexible it’s like beating the interviewee with an iron bar, I’m no great fan of Michael Jackson, but even I was taken aback by the blatant spin that Bashir emphasised throughout the whole proceeding.