Lately,
have had to ride more tubes than usual. Mainly to one place, The Embassy of
Japan in the United Kingdom (to give them their full title) to renew my
passport. They're very nice in there, the doorman greets you in Japanese, even
though he is not, as far as I can perceive, Japanese himself and he makes this
gracious effort as I walk through the security gate to say “ohayo-gozaimasu”
and “sumimasen” super professionally. Today, I had forgotten that my rucksack placed
through the bag scanner contained a Moomin swiss army knife, which he really
considerately removed and sealed in a plastic bag, then gave me a tag for it.
Idiot bringing a weapon into an embassy.
The
embassy is at Green Park station and I get there by jumping on to the Jubilee
Line from the Overground. I ping back and forth over this route a few times in
the space of a week, getting to and from the embassy. The first train I get on
is the Overground and at the station I see two loose perfectly good tomatoes on
the way in, and hairy legs carrying a bike up the station stairs. The change
over to the Jubilee line is rammed but I follow a pair of pink sling-back
kitten heels with red patent leather points, and I follow them click clacking
all the way down the escalator steps. ‘Excuse me, where did you get those
shoes?’ ‘These are really old, Top Shop.’ ‘Oh. I really love them.’ ‘Thank
you.’
I
went to see The Farewell at a cinema in Angel and on the way home I took the
Northern Line back down southwards. You really notice the colour palette of
Londoners on a Northern Line carriage, because it cuts across the N/S divide.
You get all sorts - people meshing in the middle of their journeys into
central, or on their way home, or out clubbing in Clapham. Green of moss, slabs
of concrete at dawn, freshly cut hay. Dark but not sleek, light but not
vibrant. Coats on jackets and bags slung across shoulders, like postmen.
A
sleepy man next to the mossy quilted jacket drinking a red bull, stored his half-drunk can in his bag. He nods off... as it drips out steadily... through the
corner of his pleather bag on to the seat leaving a brown stain, maybe it was a
coke, I don’t know.
