A break from the norm. Rather than darting from work back to Marylebone, I took the civilized approach. Only because I was traveling on the tube with a colleague. We headed onto the main concourse at Marylebone, with our eyes peeled to the departure board. Lady luck was shining for one of us. The train on platform two was heading in the direction of home, but would not get me there. Terminating at Gerrards Cross (two stops short from my beloved home town!). This would come to haunt me later, little did I know it then. So I watched, as my colleague sped towards the barriers and headed onto his train. I had a short wait on my hands, around ten minutes, so I thought. The 17:45 service, usually starts boarding around 17:35. The clock ticked on, the station got busy. Busier than usual. Something was wrong, but I thought nothing of it. I would be on my train soon, heading home and my mind drifted some 40 miles away, to the leafy suburbs of Buckinghamshire. The explosive sound of a bomb, echoed around the station. My dream was shattered. Instantly, we looked to the platforms, but this sound was closely followed by heavy rain being heard thundering down onto the roof. Looking outside, I saw passers-by, taken by surprise, completely drenched within seconds, without a chance to even get that umbrella out. An unfamiliar voice had been making announcements on the tannoy. I had grown accustomed to a firm male voice. Was this her first day? It seemed so. All services from Marylebone were suspended until further notice. My heart sank, as I delved into my pockets to find any lose change. Of all the days, to leave my mobile at home, fate had dealt me, the most inconsiderate of cards. Is this someway of testing my ability in extreme situations? (This wouldn’t be the first time, would it now?) Luckily, I had some coins to make that call home. My Dad was on his way, but I had no idea of how long the journey into Central London would take him, with the weather as it was. At an estimate, I was looking at my ride home making it to the station, within forty minutes or so. I was being optimistic beyond my wildest dreams. Little did I know of the chaos that was ensuing outside. Commuters kept drifted into the station, coming to the realisation that tonight’s journey home, was going to take longer, a lot longer. Grabbing a drink and some chocolate bars, I took a seat and looked around me. It was tempting to record the moment. Hundreds of faces in a trance on the departure screens, which appeared to have the hypnotic power, putting them all in a longing trance. Deciding against making their extreme frustration public, I looked at the clock. Time to wait outside. The rain had stopped. Some trains had started to leave, but none stopping to my desired destination. Outside, there was rush for the Hackney Carriage. Bumper trade for them this evening. I waited. I waited. The rain resumed. Rummaging deep into my bag, I picked out my travel umbrella. The first time, the need had come for me to use it. I continued to wait. Standing opposite the entrance to The Landmark, I watched the chauffeur driven Mercedes and BMW’s, drop off and pick up guests. A silver Mercedes S-Class was parked out in front of me. The chauffeur was making the most of the situation, he was reading a newspaper. Forty minutes had past, it was pushing 7pm now. Standing a few yards from this luxury saloon, I noticed the window effortlessly come down, and the driver pop his head out. Expected to be told to move away from the car, I got ready to make my way back into the station. Instead, a I was greeted with a smile. “You’ve been waiting out there for ages, do you want to give someone a call. It’s hell out there,” the stranger said, passing, me his Nokia 6210i. Surprised and taken aback by the kindness of this man, I mistyped my Dad’s mobile number the first time. They were in Greenford. “Your joking(!)” exclaimed the good samaritan as I returned him his mobile phone, explaining the little progress my ride home had made. I headed back into the station, realising that I needed to eat now, I would not be getting home for a good few hours. I headed to Burger King as it was the only place not busy and serving food. I couldn’t handle a full meal, so just had a burger. Then I sat down for a few minutes. The waiting continued. The clock continued to tick away the seconds. I looked again at the departure board, a few services were leaving but most had been cancelled. It had gone past 19.35, I was missing Eastenders. Thankfully I would be able to catch the late night repeat on BBC Three. The frustration of waiting inside the station was getting to me so, I headed outside again. Waiting for a brief gap in the rain shower, I headed towards the taxi rank again. It was busier than before with at least twelve people waiting to catch a cab. I found a spot, where I could down both ends of the road, and clearly see vehicles coming towards me. How much longer would I have to wait? It was ten, minutes before 8pm, my Dad pulled up outside the station entrance. Tree hours ago, I had left the office. My journey home began. An hour, and I thought I would be home. Dream on. I just did not realise the effect a little storm, with a few hours of rain would have on our transport system. Trying several routes, but never sticking to any road clogged up with traffic, we headed in and around North West London, from Kilburn, Cricklewood, Wembley and then Ealing, before joining onto the A40, just before Uxbridge. I got home at 11pm. It had been a long hard day at the office, but a much harder night on road and rail.

In the continued shameless marketing of this website, I have joined the Brit Blog directory. Of course, if you enjoy reading my blog, feel free to link to me but always drop me an e-mail. The barefaced exploitation will persist, be rest assured.

Although now, I do not listen to much commericial radio, apart from the odd time, I find myself in a car. I do listen to Clive Bull. This discovery occurred last summer, at the time of Doctor Kelly’s suicide. The FM frequency, 97.3, used to broadcast, News Direct but switched with the sister MW station, LBC. Renamed to LBC News and broadcasting on 1152AM. Enjoy listening to Clive, in the evenings. His conversational and comic style come across very well on the show, when he discusses various topical subjects. I also like his sense of humour and his way of turning a caller against him. You may have heard of the recent trend of ASBO’s. Well a caller was discussing this subject and wanted one such order to be taken out against, Tony Blair. Clive’s response was to say, “Yeah, starting a war, that is blooming anti-social”. You too can catch Clive every weekday evening from 10pm only on LBC.