I'm standing on the platform waiting for the train to arrive. Everybody is looking into the dingy tunnel for the first sign of the bright lights on the concrete wall. When the train finally comes, it's accompanied by a loud roar and a quick blast of wind as it pushes the air along with it. Then you hear the clacking and screeching of wheels as it speeds past your face at a surprising pace, until it finally comes to an abrupt halt further up the line. The doors will pause for a few seconds and then whoooosh -- it's open! -- and it's every man for himself.
Most of the trains in rush hour run every two to five minutes but nobody wants to wait that long. It's this train, this train, gotta get THIS train; let me on, outta the way folks -- move down the carriage! Everyone will cram in as tight as they can for fear of being left behind. It's like the last train out of hell before the gates slam shut. The passengers who are disembarking all have to try and squeeze out in the scrum, through a surging crowd that won't allow them any space. Before they've even had time to step out the door we will all be cramming on, sucked into the gaps like a vacuum. Did we make it? Have I still got my hat and bag? What about my arms and legs? Yup, I am safely aboard -- thank Christ for that.
Tube station architecture
A lot of Londoners take the tube for granted but there's some nice architecture underground if you take the time to look. It's not all rubble, mud, and worms down there. I like a lot of the station tunnels (I must be getting old!). The traditional stations all have deep creamy tiles that look a bit art deco, like something out of the 1920s or 1930s. But the new ones have done away with all of that because it's too time consuming and expensive to build -- they just use walls of glass, concrete, and steel. If you travel on the new Jubilee line then it's a bit like entering the body of an industrial machine... walking along its metal veins and down escalator arteries until it pumps the people out of the other end. I suppose the idea is just to funnel the blood through as quickly as possible -- they don't want people hanging around the ticket halls taking up space.
Once you're safely aboard the train you can take ten seconds to check out your neighbours. Don't stare at them for too long though, or they'll think you're a weirdo (which I am -- but that's beside the point).
Commuters rarely care if they're shoulder to shoulder with strangers on the Underground. There's no personal space on the tube. I've had my face pressed up against the doors before, and morphed my body into the shape of the concave wall -- as long as I get on I don't care.
Wondering where to look in the carriage
If the train is less crowded and you manage to bag yourself a seat then you'll have the perennial problem of where to direct your eyes. The seats are usually arranged with one row of seats directly opposite another, so you'll always have someone staring straight into your eyes. You can't gaze out of the window because it's underground. So what you need to do is develop a sudden interest in their shoes. Just stare at their shoes for ten minutes, or take out your mobile phone and start playing around with that instead. Or you can read and re-read the boring adverts above their head ten thousand times -- that's what most people choose to do.
I just stare at the floor instead. That's what I do. Other people will stare at the route map for five minutes pretending to work out their journey. But anyone who takes that long to read a map is probably lost.
If you aim your gaze down the carriage then you will see a big mix of facial expressions ranging from total boredom to animated tourist chatter. My favourite faces are the solitary souls (like me) who are replaying old conversations in their head. Sometimes they do the facial expressions that go with them as well, without realising, and you can see them in the middle of cracking a comeback line, or on the verge of a victory smile.
I wonder what scene they're re-living? They're probably conversations where their friends have complimented them, or when they've argued with someone and won. But now they have embellished the conversations with words they never said, so they are ten times better than they actually were. Faked memories, puffed up in their heads for their own amusement. I probably do this too, I think we all do. I'm in sour need of some new memories myself, because I'm getting bored with my ones. Dreams are just memories that you've made up. I wouldn't have to dream at all if my memories weren't so sh*t.
If you've never been on the tube before then it's probably quite a scary place to be. It's full of terrifying clacks and rumbles as it roars along the tunnel. It's all screeches and sharp wheels grinding on metal. You can see little sparks of lightning illuminate the tunnel walls sometimes, and red lights rushing past the window. Every now and then the electricity will drop out for a few seconds and plunge the entire carriage into darkness.
Escaping out of the carriage
As the train gets closer to your destination you have to start plotting your escape. If you've been busy daydreaming then you'll find yourself stranded halfway down the carriage with a big fight on your hands to get out, and you'll have to squeeze past about twenty people with big bags and briefcases, whilst another bunch of people are simultaneously surging through the door trying to get on. So you have to plan it like a military operation: recognise your exit route and be ready to move as soon as the opportunity arises. You don't want to get barricaded in behind a phalanx of enemy commuters plugging up the door.
Even when you've successfully exited the train the battle is still not won because you will find yourself swimming in a sea of bodies all washing along the platform, flowing to the plughole. You just have to hope that the people at the front know where they're going because that's where you'll be going, too, one way or another. Then it's up a mile-long escalator.
Standing on the righthand-side of the escalators
There's a well-observed rule in London that you should only stand on the right-hand side of escalators. The left-hand side is reserved for people in a rush -- the ones who want to expend some energy running up the stairs. Every now and then you'll get somebody who doesn't know the rule and will stand there chatting happily to their buddies, blocking up the exercise aisle. But being British, of course, no one will dare say anything to them. We just bundle up behind them and mutter obscenities in our heads. When the blockage is popped at the top everyone will rush across the ticket hall to make up for the lost time. (It probably only wasted ten seconds, but it's surprising how annoying a loss of ten seconds can be!)
Buskers in the tube station
The buskers are pretty decent on the Underground. I think they must audition them to make sure that they can actually play. You can usually hear them long before they come into view because the music carries through the tunnels and up the escalators, bouncing back off the brick walls and into the station. The noise gets louder and louder until eventually you'll see them strumming their song. The buskers are probably secretly wishing for a big crowd to grow, but all they ever get is a never-ending stream of people's fronts and backs, forever on their way to somewhere else. It must be quite dispiriting to see your audience fritter away every time a tube train comes along.
