I am livid. Absolutely livid. I’ve been diverting my recent online energies to trying to get to the bottom of the NIGHTMARE that was my journey home a week last Thursday (30th January 2003).
IT TOOK ME 9 HOURS TO GET HOME.
Think about that for just one minute.
I have emailed just about everybody who I think are representative of the collective responsibility of transport systems of London. I even emailed Annie Mole - the spiritual thought leader of the London Underground system - but apart from a couple of politically spun responses from Mayor Ken’s office - I have had little back from anybody. Alas - it seems nobody is interested.
Hey ho - perhaps most people in this country really are like British Airways cabin crew attendants: who don’t mollycoddle you - but, instead, speak down to you like a headteacher the moment you care to complain - or worse still - just simply ignore you when you’re in need. I can just picture the thought in their eyes: “well - the exercise probably did you a lot of good sir.”
Anyway - there were many things about my ordeal that night that I will never forget - but there is not enough space in this margin to write about it - but if there was one thing that kept me going on my 3 mile melee with a fierce killer blizzard - it was music that I had on my brain that night - it had to be the one that got me home with absolute gritless determination all mixed up with the feeling of rage. A heavy rock number with raw guitar, violent drum and climatic lyrical crescendo …
“I’m on the nightrain
Ready to crash and burn
I never learn
I’m on the nightrain“
from a really motivational heavy-rock song by a visually unappealing eighties band called Gun N’ Roses.