I’ve enjoyed being back in London. It turns out the reason I was getting fed up with London was the commute. Commuting in London is hideous unless you can walk.
I’ve had my family down this weekend. My wife is heavily pregnant meaning she can’t walk far, so we’ve been relying on public transport. Turns out that the only thing worse than commuting on the tube at rush hour is using the tube with a push chair, a three year old and a very pregnant lady.
The London traveling public are animals, to the point where my wife was having to offer to help another mother with her pushchair because no one else would. Unsurprisingly enough, the instant this happened a plethora of offers suddenly appeared from the throng of people pushing past us. Seems shame is a useful tool.
When I used to work in London the bile, vitriol and hatred that commuting caused grew to such extends that I ended up writing a regular (read near daily) blog about it entitled The Model Commuter. I was really quite angry back then and it provided a forum to vent. My more usual commute (when I’m not living in central London at the companies expense while doing stupidly long hours and 12 day weeks) involves seats, and tables, and trains that are usually on time. Living and working outside of London has its benefits.