An American Worker in London
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Crowded Trains
Central London is the most crowded city I have worked in. While I expected a lot of people in this country of 60 million people, I didn't figure that most of them would be in London. Or so it seems. The official records indicate that nearly 3 million live in Central London, and another 4 or 5 million live in the outer boroughs, but from my recent experiences, a good portion of them either live and work in Islington (near my office) or are riding the subways and trains to get there.
Last weekend, for example, I took the Central Line from Islington (north London) to Hyde Park. On Saturday, the underground was very crowded, and the rail cars were jammed full. I knew that for shoppers, the Central Line is the best route to Tottenham Court Road, Oxford Circus and Bond Street, but I hoped that the weekends wouldn't be that busy. I was wrong.
On Saturday, I boarded the Central Line at Bank, which is the best connection to Hyde Park from the Angel underground station. When the train pulled up, I realized that "standing room only" was the rule of the day, and I squeezed on with the hordes of other passengers waiting on the platform. I ended up pressed against the end of the car with my back to the connecting door to the next car. No problem there, since no one would be using that door and I could almost fit into the small depression the door made. I also didn't need a handhold to stay upright when the train accelerated quickly at each station.
We arrived at St. Paul's, the next stop, and no one got off, but dozens more travelers got on. I couldn't see where they would stand, but they all made it in before the doors closed, and we were pressed even closer together. By then, we were standing so close that no one could fall over even if the train stopped suddenly, and I was very glad that my "neighbors" had brushed their teeth that morning. I could not move my arms, which were pressed down at my sides, but no one else could either. We all murmered to our neighbors that we were sorry about the crowd, and apologized for any bumping that might occur. The crowd jostled with the movement of the train, and we made it to Chancery Lane station. At this point, several people departed, but even more arrived, and the crowd at my end of the train became even more dense. I could look across the car to the other end and see that maybe 150 people were standing or sitting, and the capacity was listed as 65. We all gritted our teeth for the ride to the next station. I hoped that people would begin to leave at the shopping district, which began with Tottenham Court Road and ended at Bond Street. As before, we stood like sardines, arms pressed against our sides, bags and parcels at our feet, faces within inches of one another.
And then my nose started to itch. This cannot be happening, I thought. There is no way I can reach my nose in this crowd. Time began to pass slowly, almost standing still, like the time when I fell off the apple ladder and landed in the rose bush. The itch in my nose got worse, and now all I could think about was scratching it. Slowly, carefully, I moved my left arm up my side, hoping my elbow wouldn't press into anyone's back or ribs. The woman standing next to me shifted politely, just enough to let me know that I had moved into her space or touched the wrong spot. She glared at me briefly and I explained that my nose was itching as I scratched vigorously, hoping that this would do it.
It did, but now my left arm was in the "up" position and I had to either leave it there or slide it back down again. I left it there, and the train made it to Holborn and then Tottenham Court Road, with no one getting off, but thankfully, no one getting on either. Finally, at Oxford Circus, a few people left, but the car was still packed, and I was as far away from the exit doors as one could get. There were only a few stops left to go before Marble Arch, but I had to start planning my escape now.
The next question was, what door would I need to use to leave the train? Not being familiar with the platform arrangements at each station, I had a 50/50 chance of edging myself to the right exit so I could be in position to leave before the doors slid shut again. We're only talking about 20 seconds, sometimes less, during which time everyone has to alight or depart from the car. The rule of thumb is that people departing have the priority, but that isn't always observed, especially during very crowded conditions.
We arrived at Marble Arch, and I could see the platform, and had to make my move quickly, but my left arm was still in the "up" position, leaving only my right arm available to reach my backpack by my feet. With some effort, I was able to bend slightly to reach it (without offending anyone nearby), grab the loop, and prepare to bolt for the door, somehow moving 20 people aside in the process. With repeated "excuse me"s I pushed and bumped my way through the door and landed on the platform just before the doors slammed shut again. Looking back at the departing train, I could see hundreds of people still jammed inside, pressed tightly together, on their way to their final destination. But I was out and away and glad to on my way to Hyde Park, which promised wide open spaces and far fewer people.
