A walk on the wrong side

Following a business meeting in London I decided to drop in to the Tate Modern to see the current exhibit in the Turbine Hall (more on what I saw another time...) But rather than struggle back to Liverpool Street Station on the Underground, I chose to make my way back from the gallery on foot. However it was 5pm and the pavements were as crowded as I imagined the tube platforms would have been, and I seemed to be constantly walking in the path of other people. If I veered towards the road, I ran the risk of being clipped by a bus or lorry. The other side of the pavement meant having to avoid people blindly emerging from their workplaces or skulking round pub doorways having a cigarette (DAMN that smoking ban!)

Still, I bravely ploughed on, relying on my increasingly out of date mental map of East London to guide me. A few years back I had the ability to stagger from one pub to the next on autopilot, but now my trips to London are so infrequent that I have accepted that entire roads of buildings are demolished and replaced between visits. The Foster Gherkin wasn’t there one moment and the next it stood there in all its glass fronted retro lava lamp glory, complete and occupied. And it occurred to me that in the same way that one inevitably becomes like ones parents, I had become the very thing that I hated when I was a London commuter - a tourist with no idea which way to walk.

If you work in London, you may have noticed that shop names are becoming more literal. ‘Pret a Manger’ seems quite subtle when compared to EAT! barking at you to buy its sandwiches and cheap, nasty coffee. Got me thinking as to what other names you could come up with. You could earn your money at WORK, go for a beer at GET DRUNK, buy a kebab at VOMIT before going to the TOTALLY FAIL TO GET OFF WITH SOMEONE TONIGHT nightclub. Let us hope they don’t rebrand the public lavatories in the same way.

(The irony of the fact that I used to hang around a lot in the Virgin Megastore has just dawned on me…)

Back to my journey home, and my sense of direction is failing fast – surely I’ve walked past that Starbucks twice already? Hang on – just because there are only two branches in the whole of East Anglia doesn’t mean you’re lost. Remember that this is London so there are Starbucks everywhere. EAT! shouts out at me once again, just to prove the point.

I’m in luck. I recognise Aldgate and push my way through a crowd of people just standing around. Probably waiting for a guided tour of historic London landmarks such as Weatherspoons, McDonalds and Boots.

A few minutes and I’m back at the station. Exhausted but relieved to be almost home save for the train journey I give in to the temptation of a freshly baked pastry and climb on board. Balancing my laptop on an almost pointless pedestal table, I begin to construct this entry. Train departs on time, so I’ll be home by 9pm in time for Torchwood.

Two minutes later there’s an announcement: “We apologise for the delay – this is due to a passenger pulling the communication cord on the train in front.” Should've made that pastry last...