It’s a regular refrain coming from a Londoner, but why oh why can’t things in this town run to my timetable?! It’s possibly the tube taunting me, but remember how I sang a little song in praise of leaving the Northern Line? Ha. Turns out Southern Trains are incapable of running a full peak-time service (on Wednesday morning I only got into town by standing in the guard’s van) so I’ve started getting the bus. (This did mean I discovered the amazing French market on Lower Marsh on Friday, at which I bought lots of jam. Mmm, fig jam… Silver linings and all that.)

Is it really so hard to have basic efficiencies? If I can manage to transport myself around London, if I can manage to organise a house move, why is it so hard for other people to pull their finger out and do the same? I’d make an excellent German. Actually, I’d make a much better Austrian (they’re more laid back, with better hair and better cake).


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