I had a nervous breakdown at Old Street this morning. Why would the first tubes go at 7.30am on a sunday?? Unbelievable! People have to get to church and stuff!
Loreena MacKennit, at least and that means I have to be at hers just when the first train leaves Old Street Underground Station... what to do?
Wake up your girlfriend, who knows more about buses in London and has internet and cry into the telephone.
If you are lucky, your girlfriend sorts it all out while you roll around on the pavement in a panic. I am very lucky.
And Loreena MacKennit is, cause she is currently singing and praying in her church.
Plus she said I did a brilliant job this morning and was all organised and that and she could see that I was well rested and energized.
Couldn't help saying "Really? I had a bit of a stressful morning." She asked if I had overslept and I said yes, cause I didn't want to tell her that it was more of a lovely wine-and-stew-sit together with dancing around to cheesy music at midnight in East London and a big portion of stupidity of not checking if trains are running on a sunday. Anyway. Won't happen again, ey.
It reminded me, though, of how massive and scary London is. I mean... I start bumping into people I know in the streets and I know lots of bus routes and tube connections and never even have a map on me anymore. But that is because the parts of London I actually "use" are probably, put together, not even as big as Konstanz. And then I strand at Old Street at 6.30am on a Sunday and have no idea what to do and there's 15 bus stops with 57 buses and a million street lights and a huge scary poster of Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter and that is all it takes to make me feel completely lost, cause I have no idea in what direction Wimbledon is.
I am calming down now. Will go for a nice cup of tea in my next break and make peace with Johnny Depp's face.
KB :)
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