This morning I saw two little old Australian ladies bickering about where they needed to change on the Northern Line. One of them, the one who had paid attention, thought they were on the right line. The other one was convinced they needed to change at Kennington. (This would have put them on the wrong branch of the Northern Line - probably resulting in significant delay). The little old Australian man who was with them - he just sat there, he didn't say nothin'.
Now, the one in the wrong appeared to be winning the argument. I couldn't stand to see them amble off lost and confused - so I butted in. I asked which station they were going to, they told me and I confirmed that they should stay put.
Well, unfortunately the little old Australian lady who I backed up thought this meant I was some kind of authority on the Underground and London:
Q: Why is the Metropolitan line delayed this morning?
A: I don't know, but there's always something wrong with some line.
Q: You can tell which branch of the Northern line you get on because of the sign, right?
A: No, don't trust that. Don't even trust the announcement - because sometimes they change their mind.
Q: Do you know the history of Elephant and Castle? Why is it called Elephant and Castle?
A: I don't know.
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1 comment:
LOL
I read in one of those fun little books that tells you about the monarchs dirty laundry that one of the kings (can't remember which) had a fat mistress and a thin one and the court used to call them Elephant and Castle behind their backs. . . I don't know if that is why the station is called that, but it appeals to my sense of humour.
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