This morning started like any other morning, the alarm went off and I groaned at Tom. He hit snooze and pulled my body close to his so we could snuggle up for ten more minutes before that pesky alarm started nagging us again to get up. Urgh.
We went about our usual morning routine, ducking and diving around each other as teeth were brushed, showers were had and clothes were pulled on. It was our first day back to work after moving to our new home in North London but it didn’t affect our routine. It was like clockwork…. apart from not knowing where the f**k my other trainer was… it was behind a box.
After Tom had spent forever on his hair and I’d made a coffee – then left it somewhere in the flat and forgot to drink it – we set off for work. He went one way to get his bus and I went then other to get the tube back to south London.
I made my way to the station. My new area is lovely and leafy. Quiet and calm. Little kids speeding along on their micro scooters with their mother running along after them. I got to Archway in no time. Simple. A train arrived so I pulled out my book and squeezed into a corner of the carriage. I could get so much more reading done now I have this long commute. As we left the platform I began to engross myself in the world of Philip Marlowe.
Suddenly there was a loud bang. The tube ground to a halt and I was thrown backwards, smacking my head on a glass window. The lights went out and we were in pitch black and the carriage fell silent. It took a few minutes for the lights to come back on and for an announcement to be made. The train had a fault and was going to slowly crawl to the next station to get us all off. But not until the lights had gone back off and we were plunged back into darkness again. I do not deal with these situations well. I felt clammy and slightly panicked. I also couldn’t remember who I was stood next to. But whoever it was was pressed up against me and I could feel their breath on my neck. It was unnerving. I turned on my music and tried to let some heavy rap music calm me down.
Half an hour later after some claustrophobic fun we all filed back off the train – one stop along the line. I was somewhere called Tufnell Park. It didn’t look familiar, I hadn’t a bloody clue where I was. The queues for the bus were obscene. I wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. I felt very tense and I snapped.
I rang Tom and ranted.
“I hate north London. Stupid place. It all looks the same everywhere.”
He patiently listened and directed me on how to walk to Camden.
As I walked along I noticed a few others walking the same way. One very nice man turned to the rest of us and said “anyone fancy sharing a cab to Kings Cross?”
The next black cab that passed by was flagged down and along with five complete strangers, I squeezed into the taxi. One was a receptionist, another lady worked at a bank, two were in PR and the other was a web designer. We had a lovely chat and laughed about the situation. One PR man lived near me and recommended a couple of good restaurants. Another lady told me about a lovely park ten minutes away.
In no time at all we pulled up at Kings cross. We all gave some money to the driver and filed out of the cab. Without another word we then all went our separate ways. Despite the situation it was actually quite a nice way to start the morning…
I guess living in north London isn’t so bad…