等小Yoga回家唱歌

是一个偶尔碎碎念的lofter

London Underground in Summer

In summer, I mean the real heating summer, walking along the London Underground station, from one line to another, is like walking in hell.

The temperature can be as high as 40 degrees, no fresh air goes through. Perfume from ladies mixed with cologne from gentlemen, tourists in their leather jackets (who can never imagine why it is 22 degrees outside but here they are standing near a volcano.) carrying their XL luggages to climb steps as the signs to lift is blurred by the steams from those handmade Saviour Street suites.

Being a short human can be a positive thing - to quickly skip & run under people’s arms, but that is also means you can be the victim of someone’s underarm poisoning smell. Being tall means you have less chance to jump on a tube: either you bend your neck for the whole journey, or hit your forehead against the carriage ceiling every time when our tube driver breaks.

Everyone has their headsets on. (Well, probably except those tourists as they are shouting to each other to ensure they didn’t jump on a wrong tube.)

Lots of people are reading boring free newspapers, some read books, some work on a laptop, some retouch their eyelash, but majority of passengers are staring the advertisements on top of every carriage. Because no internet in this 151-year-old public transport system. The black brick-shape phone (if you don’t have a game on it) is a true brick now.

A Hermes-bag lady standing beside a Microsoft developer (backpack has a logo), trying to glance the 8th season Game of Thrones on his screen. A gym trainer is leaning against the carriage door & eating popcorn. Opposite a girl in a nice yellow summer dress standing a man in his down jacket.

Suddenly, the tube stops. The driver’s motionless voice comes out of the speaker: “There is a signal failure in the station of Acton Town (or any station TBH), we will be held here for a short while. “ the stillness & heating wraps everyone but nothing you can do. It may be the 10th time you hear a signal failure message this week.

After 5 minutes, all you want is getting out of the tube & have a deep breath.

10 minutes you just want to know if you are going to be buried here, or next stop.

15 minutes later. You think this IS a train to the hell.

20 minutes later. The train moves. Everyone sighs relievedly.

When you see the daylight & 4G signal again, you feel that you are alive again.

What can I say? Welcome to London!