Saturday, after stops at the Memorabilia Bazaar at the Cinema Museum, and dinner with friends in Camden, I began my journey homeward at 11:30 p.m., under a modest snowfall. In spite of the weather, Transport for London was reporting no problems on my Piccadilly Line home.
From Finsbury Park, I caught a northbound train at 12:30 a.m., expecting to be tucked into bed in under an hour. Then came the delays, first at Manor House, and then Wood Green, Turnpike Lane, and on and on and on. Signal failures, trains further up the line stuck in the snow, queues to pull into stations. As the night wore on, my patience wore thin, snapping entirely at Oakwood when the train waited for nearly twenty minutes, its door wide open, snow and freezing wind blowing into my compartment.
At 2:45 a.m., over two hours later, my train crawled into Cockfosters, a mere 10km from my starting point at Finsbury Park. My bitterly cold message to Transport for London: if your precious trains and moron drivers are unable to handle a few inches of snow, then suspend the whole damn service and run replacement buses instead!
Typical London.
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