Categories: Expat Life

I have a confession to make…

FOR the last few weeks, I have been unfaithful…There, I said it.

I have no explanation and even ‘it’s not you it’s me’ doesn’t cut it.

Maybe it’s because everyone else was doing it, maybe because it was something I thought I could get away with.

Whatever my reasons, the fact remains that I did it.

I have been using other ways of getting around. Not only in London but I even cheated abroad.

It started with the use of the Overground in London. I don’t really know what attracted me at the time, I guess it was just easy…

Then it stemmed out to Mansfield (well it’s not my fault the Tube can’t take me there). But I couldn’t stop there. Next was Croatia, then Belgium and then Denmark…

The Metro, Light rail, taxis, Urban rail. I have done it all.  I have even heard of places where the train doesn’t even touch the tracks, it simply hovers magnetically on top. WOW… I can’t help but imagine the possibilities yet to come.

I can’t say I was bored in my relationship with the Tube because as I sit in the small town of Nyborg in Copenhagen pouring my heart out, I long to see my London love.

No one else looks out for me and tells me to ‘Mind The Gap’. No one else warned me when they were approaching and no one else gave me that warm feeling or made me break into a sweat.

Maybe the rumours of the high speed railway was what tipped me over the edge or perhaps it was the many upgrades. The curiosity, well, it just got the better of me.

I guess the thought of sharing him with an extra 1 million commuters every day during the Olympics just didn’t sit right with me. But I have come to realise that no other transport system loves me the way the Tube does.

After weeks of beggars in carriages, stalker taxi drivers and foreign audio- I now know where my heart lies. It’s good to get away but as Kylie told us years age, ‘it’s better the devil you know’.

There may be times when things get tough and sometimes we think we can get better than what we have but it’s not until we get a taste for it do we realise how good we actually had it.

Tubey, if you’re reading this, please forgive me and I promise I won’t do it again… (well, at least until next summer that is…)