Surprisingly, life in London on a usual
day, runs smoothly. If the sun is shining, and you can get a seat on the bus,
the queues are working, and no-one has thrown themselves in front of a moving
train, you could be forgiven for feeling strong, positive emotions; such as
contentedness. Nothing strong enough to stir a smile, but enough to stop you
wishing for a new plague, as you cup your head into a sweaty armpit.
However, this is nothing but the calm
before the storm, when the Transport for London staff throw a hissy-fit and
decide to award themselves a few days off. The result is central London
becoming a no-go zone; as if a nuclear attack has just been performed on
Charing Cross roundabout.
