Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Planes, Trains, and Sardine Cans

Now I know what sardines in a can feel like. (Except the being dead part.)

Rode the London Underground (aka The Tube) a couple of times today during morning and evening rush hours, and the people were packed so tight at times that no one else could get in the car ... and the last guy in had to lean his head forward so the door would shut!

Every age range, income bracket (well, below a million), and sexual orientation was represented (or so it seemed). Wish I'd gotten a photo of the gothic punk girl with the bright vermillion hair, tank top, and multiple tattoos. 
I continue to marvel at the public transportation systems in Europe. I traveled from the outskirts of Geneva to the heart of London without benefit of a car: walk up the hill from the house to the bus stop, bus to downtown Geneva, change to bus to the aeroport, walk through security, moving sidewalks to customs, bus to the airplane, airstairs, fly GVA to LGW, jetport into the terminal at Gatwick, shuttle train from North terminal to South terminal, buy an Oyster prepaid magnetic card for easier train/Tube access, through turnstiles and down escalators to the train platform, Southern Rail to East Croydon, walk up the ramp to the 'Way Out' (never realized that, not only do the Brits drive on the wrong side of the road, they tend to walk on the left side too), through the exit turnstile, and walk two blocks to the hotel. Next morning, train to London Bridge, Tube to Canning Town, Docklands Light Rail to Customs House stop for the ExCel convention centre. Reverse in the evening.

It was perfect foggy London weather this morning.
One other thing I marvel at - the Brits slap a name on everything they can. This one names a space about 5 metres square which connects a walkway from the river to the street.

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