Lately I've got into the habit of getting in to work at 8am so that I can leave earlier. The aim being that, if I hit Victoria at 7.30am, no-one it's so quiet, and likewise, if I leave between 4-5pm, it's equally as calm.
As is usually the case, though, 4pm becomes 5pm becomes 6pm, and you end up trying to claw your way through this mess in the picture.
But rush hour is such a London trademark, strangely there's almost an affection for it. Perhaps it's because, although everyone hates each other at this time of day, it's something that's common for all Londoners and brings us together?
We all have the same grievances: someone walks in front of you and caps your speed; someone changes direction or, worse, stops still and you run into them; someone has their music too loud (although when it's a bloke in his twenties listening to Whitney, you can only laugh); someone's ticket doesn't work and holds you up a crucial, life-threatening, two seconds; the train is cancelled because there isn't a driver; the list goes on ... just like the way we have the same issues and concerns with health care or tax increases etc ... it unites us, makes us as one, and you don't get that often.
So, when I next miss 4pm, then 5pm and get out at 6pm, I'm going to embrace The Rush Hour, I'm going to feel the collective energy, and I'm not going to tut when someone walks too slow.
Let's see how long that lasts ...
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