“We apologise for the delay” is never the announcement you want to hear on the station platform.
It was a cold, October evening, seeming later than it was because of the recent change of clocks (spring forward, fall back). There’s nothing you can do about delays so I decided to enjoy the moment. I looked around my fellow passengers as I boarded the next train and felt grateful that I live in such a diverse place: a group of northern Europeans, a mother and her young daughter, ladies with perfectly manicured nails and gents straight from the building site.
This train ride was different from others I’ve taken around the world. I tuned into various conversations – someone on the phone to a client: a recruitment agent I think; another one a midwife; a story about princesses; the highs and lows of a football league and the usual conversations about being late.
With phones buzzing and beeping, and a background soundtrack of typing on a keyboard, I wonder how many other people stop to take it all in, to stop worrying about the thing syou can’t change, to stop pretending you’re the image you portray and to look around with fresh eyes.
Afterall, this was no holiday trip, this was my commute – rush hour in south London: an everyday adventure.