|Doesn't that just take the biscuit?
Mad Scientess Jane Expat
I went for a run by the Thames this morning for the first time in months, as it's finally not freeze-my-nipples-off cold. For those of you who think the weather in Britain is never that bad, let me remind you that I spent my childhood in Hawai'i and eleven years of my adult life in Southern California. When other people in this country are getting their shirts off, I've probably still got a woolly jumper on. And a coat.|
Anyway, I arrived at the Kew railway bridge to find a length of chain-link fence blocking further progress. Two other people arrived at nearly the same time. We all stopped to read the notices posted on the fence. The notices politely directed us to an alternative route which would return us to the path about half a kilometre along. As it was 6:30 AM, none of the works for which the fence had been erected were actually taking place. We looked at one another, shrugged, and filed down the riverbank to go around the fence - in, I hasten to note, the order in which we arrived.
The incident struck me as emblematic of London. No one ignored the note. It simply went unheeded because it didn't make sense to follow the instructions just then. No one spoke. And though there were a mere three people involved, queuing protocol was observed.
I'm going to be grinning about this all day.