Last Trains
Thanks to Hon for treating us to some of his cocktails. I don't think I've ever had cocktails before, but some of them were really nice - especially the banana cream one! But soon it was time to Go Go (couldn't resist, sorry).
In London, the last Tube trains leave at about 12-midnight which is a pain as we have to leave wherever we are by 11:30 at the latest to get home. That is unless you consider expensive taxis or night buses which I don't particularly like.
So, we walked to the station, by which time it was about 11:30. After buying an extension ticket I walked through the open gate without anyone checking - another £1 wasted! My friends had to travel to central London before heading North, while I had to go that way myself.
Changing at Holborn station I got the last Rayners Lane Piccadilly line train. I was waiting to get on at the back-end of the train and as it pulled up, a fairly big man with big, black, heavy boots and an orange workman's bib made a last rush for the end carriage. His speed was strange considering he had been waiting on the platform for some time. He got on right at the end, while I was at the front of the end carriage. I heard him chuck down a big black workman's bag and it sounded full of heavy tools.
Once the train was moving he strided along the carriage in an aggressive manner. He threw his bag down again at the end - 1 meter away from me. Then he started fiddling with the door between the carriages and I thought that he might go through while we were moving - this can be done. The train was quite empty and it was a little freaky, I have to say.
Thankfully at Covent Garden and Leicester Square more people got on returning from their Friday night outings. Among them were 4 Americans. The guys were wearing huge pairs of jeans and one guy kept swaying on the blue bars which seemed to annoy me at the time. One said 'lie-ster' square to the others. A Brit who had just sat down next to me laughed to himself.
The man who had sat down was one of those annoying types who thinks that his legs need to be as far away from each other as possible, therefore encroaching on what should have been my space - maybe I get more conscious of personal space than other people do. Then you think, does he mean to touch my leg. Should I move and let him move yet more, or stand firm?! Bah!
The scary man in boots decides he is still crazy, gets off and boards the next carriage along (you can see from carriage to carriage). I saw him again stride angrily to the far end, dumping his bag of hammers menacingly. Thank god he had gone.
A very drunk young woman was shouting amongst friends.
"Who do you want to win the world cup?" She wants Italia or Argentina to win apparently.
"England, why the balls are they there?"
When she walked back down to the other end people in my section started to talk to each other about her. They laughed. This is strange and only happens when people have had a bit to drink. Normally strangers don't speak on trains in England - only to ask for directions etc. This, perhaps is quite sad. Same as all large cities?
Thankfully I skipped over to the last District line train to complete my journey. When i got off the gates to the station were half closed. Hopefully one day the trains will run longer hours.
So ends the tale of Friday night's last Underground trains. Tune in for the tale of "The Two Trains" and "The Return of the District Line."

