When the going gets weird

By Slybacon

Night(mare) Train

I had a job in Ilford shooting at a London Gymnastics event today. This involved a brutally early start, having to get to Redbridge Sports Centre for 8am. The journey in though was peacefully serene. Particularly once I got onto the Central Line heading out to Fairlop. There was only one other guy in the carriage (pictured above). As the train swept past Fairlop Waters Country Park, there was a low mist hanging over the land. Very picturesque.

The event itself was pretty full on. Elven Hours in all, with not much chance to take breaks. The food on site was horrendous and I cursed forgetting my sandwiches in my early morning rush. Shooting with a 70-200mm 2.8 lens for eleven hours is not good for your fingers or wrists. Worst of all, I lost a cap off the back of one of my teeth. It was put in to protect the rather thin enamel I have left, so I should probably find a dentist and get it fixed.

It was a long day, but that was fine. At least I was busy. Things started to go South when I left to catch the Train back home. Saturday nights aren't alright for train rides through central London it seems.

First up, there were severe delays on the central line. I had to wait twenty minutes longer than anticipated for the train to show up. As a result, it was busier than it might have been. Fairlop to Barkingside was fair enough. Quiet chatter and plenty of space. Real people, trying to get home. Then Newbury Park comes along and all hell breaks loose. 

The doors open and a rabble of ‘deplorables’ stampeded into the carriage, whooping and shouting.
A horrible cacophony of sound, smell, and sights assaulted me. The air is acidic with too many people wearing too much perfume. It gives me a headache.  There are bright orange people screaming conversation at each other. They’re standing mere inches apart so I can’t understand the need for such volume. Everything they are saying makes me wince. “I LIKE DOGS ME. I HAVE FIVE DOGS. DO YOU LOVE DOGS?” YEAH I LOVE DOGS I HAVE FIVE DOGS. DO YOU LOVE DOGS? YEAH I LOVE DOGS, YOU HAVE FIVE DOGS DON’T YOU? “YEAH I HAVE FIVE DOGS, I LOVE THEM..” (This conversation runs on loop between three women. I think we have established the love of dogs. Please move on…) Everyone is trying to out shout each other over the cacophony. I jam my earphones in and attempt to find something to drown out the sound. I worry if I use something too aggressive I’ll be possessed of a berserker rage and tear someone's throat out with my teeth. So I listen to Cindy Lauper singing time after time and try to go to a happy place. It doesn’t work. Why would that work?

There’s a man sat opposite me in brown tasseled loafers, beige chinos, a navy Barbour jacket and no socks. How does that even happen? Surely someone says, “Hoy mate. Just naw. I think you need to go home and at the very least put some socks on”.

A weary looking woman is clutching onto a hand rail, shopping bag in hand. Glasses pushed back up onto her head. She looks as if she's about to burst into tears. I might join her.

Stratford arrives and I hastily fight my way out of the carriage. Then it's onto the Jubilee line. It starts ok. But things gradually get worse, stop by stop. More people crowd on. More perfumes. More aftershaves. I switch soundtrack and listen to the CroMags. This definitely works better than Cindy Lauper. I don’t know what I was thinking. The airborne toxins of scent had clearly gone to my head.

Change at Canada Water. Rush upstairs to catch the overground to Peckham Rye. Board the train. A group of pissed up posh boys are wearing approximations of German National Dress. Their eyes are drooping closed as they use phrases like ‘top banter’. Everyone else on the crowded train is shooting them glances that fire daggers. I feel calmer. There is solidarity against posh boys in Lederhosen. My kind of people.

The Calm is brief. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m about to ruin your night…’ announces the train driver with a barely concealed glee. ‘The Train has developed a serious safety fault. Everyone has to get off. Ten minutes more waiting on the platform ensues.

The next train is heaving as a result of the previous one disembarking. There is a teenage lad dressed as Son Goku from Dragon Ball Z. The blonde wig makes him look a bit like a Troll doll. Which almost makes up for all the horror through the rest of the journey. There are lots of glitter faced people. Riot and I have spotted a lot this about. It seems to be some kind of fad.


Riot came to meet me at Peckham Rye. I’ve never been so happy to see a friendly face. That part of town is much different at Weekends. Maybe a bit to jumping for me to be honest. But we found some awesome food for a keen price and I left the train nightmare behind me with some amazing nachos. Nachos make everything better.

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