One hazard you don’t get coming out of Hackney Central – roughly 4,000 middle aged gents in panama hats all attempting to pile into Vauxhall station at once in a hurry to get back to their Surrey mansions for pink gins and reminiscences of how cricket was in their day. Imagine a very genteel slow-moving riot as the blue-blazered hordes took their lives into their hands and marched across the road without waiting for the light, stopping most of the traffic through sheer weight of numbers alone. All apart from one be-lycra’d cyclist who was startled to find himself on the moral high ground for once but massively outnumbered and forced to actually slow down at a pedestrian crossing. Amazing.
They probably all had a collective apoplectic fit at the signs they’ve put up on the platforms at Vauxhall though. “Home of the Brit Oval”. Stop this nonsense now. It’s The Oval. What next – the Andrex Lords? Royal Insurance Ascot?
Bah humbug. Pour me a pink gin.
There will now be a short intermission. I’m off to spend a week exploring the delights (among other things) of the St. Petersburg Metro system. I may or may not be able to blog – keep checking every day to find out (it keeps my stats up). If not, I shall fill you in on my return.