Going Underground.

This week I was watching a report on the BBC website in which the Tube was described as 'old and dirty'. I suddenly found myself quite offended. I didn't realise that I would get quite so protective over something I simply use to get around town. It wasn't until I started to think about it that I realised how much I love the Tube. The smell you get when that rush of warm air hits you just before the train shoots past you on the platform, the announcer who always sounds so happy to be going to Willesden Green on the Jubilee Line, the battle to get on the single escalator that takes you down to the Jubilee Line at Canada Water. I love that it is always too hot, always too crowded and that you always seem to be the one that never gets a seat and always falls over. Don't ask me why because I really don't know. I think many Londoners don't appreciate just how lucky we are to have it. Some of the weirdest and funniest moments of my life have happened on the Tube. There was the time I sat down (yes I got a seat) on the Piccadilly Line, looked up and saw a girl I had met at a Birmingham University open day the week earlier, that same day I saw a boy who had left my school a year previously on an escalator somewhere beneath Oxford Circus. Just before Christmas there was the brilliant announcer who sang all of his messages into his loudhailer, bringing festive cheer to the Waterloo Tube crush.

I love it when you catch someone's eye when there is the crazy in the carriage spouting off about how crowded it is or that they can't get a seat, that smirk you share means more as communication on the tube is almost strictly off limits. The one time this rule was consistently broken was during the Olympics. People actually talked to each other, they shared their joy at Britain's success and were amazed when Olympians traveled on the Tube with us mere mortals.
Even after a band of terrorist brought darkness to the city I call my home and the Tube that I love so much we still use it, Londoners are hardier than they seem.
So in this year when the Tube turns 150 years old I think we should all realise how lucky we are to have it. It may not always run on time, we may get frustrated with just how busy it is but think what we would do without it. I wouldn't get to dance on deserted Tube platforms at 5 in the morning to start.

Ode To A Cocktail

Last Monday night saw a night of general debauchery at a cocktail bar in Shoreditch named 'The Shoreditch' (I haven't worked out quite yet if I appreciate the possession this cocktail bar seems to take over the place it resides in or if it is a brilliant marketing ploy). Anyway, many Shoreditch Martinis and Gin Gardens along the track we ended back up on the Tube home and pretending to pole dance on the hand rails. I am sorry East London Line but the poles are just there and no matter how little we have had to drink and how busy the carriage is or how long we have lived in London in our minds the poles are there for one thing and one thing only: entertainment. Tuesday, surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), saw more cocktails, these were, luckily for my bank balance, not for my head, bought for me. That certainly made me feel better about the 'cocktails two nights in a row' thing. Maybe I just need to go on more dates?
If this week has taught me anything it is that cocktails always make things more fun, the cans of Red Stripe 'Jamaica's finest' that I then had to drink for the rest of the week as I couldn't justify spending any more money on cocktails or find someone who was willing to buy them for me, tasted extremely bitter. This, combined with me finally discovering 'Sex And The City' this week, has not made a good mix. How am I meant to watch people drink what seem like bottomless Cosmopolitans all day, seem to never be at work and yet manage to buy such expensive clothes and then not wonder why I can't do the same thing? The answer is simple: I am a student. This is not a time for cocktails and designer clothes. This is a time for thrift store shopping and cans of 99p cider bought from the off-licence across the road. The thrift store shopping I can deal with but the sooner that someone creates a delicious cocktail comprising of White Lightning and Red Stripe the better.
In other news I have decided that it is going to be Spring. Listen up everyone, you have me to thank for the sudden increase in temperatures. I have resolved that if I stop wearing a coat and start drinking ice tea again (homemade I'll have you know) then the temperature is guaranteed to rise and I will be the Spring saviour. I don't know if it is simply my mind playing tricks on me but I swear it has actually got warmer since I began doing this and I am sure the mornings are significantly brighter this week than they were last week.