Warming Up

We drove into town today to meet some friends and look round the London Transport Museum. I was just thinking about how easy it was to get into town on a Sunday when we got stuck in a traffic jam on the Euston Road. There were roadworks meaning we had to take a diversion, but also quite a few cars flying orange flags with slogans written in a foreign language. But we were quickly enough through it all.

When we got to Covent Garden I had assumed finding a parking place would be relatively easy, but everything was taken. Annoyingly as we’d gone down St Martin’s Lane there had been spaces and we’d foolishly believed that we could get a bit closer to our destination.

I hoped that if I drove up the Strand and got into the Covent Garden environs from that end then we’d find something. But as we turned into the road the traffic ground to a halt. There were loads more cars with orange flags and lots of Sikhs walking up the road (and in most of the cars). Catie and the kids got out of the car to get us a table for lunch and it quickly became clear that I wouldn’t be joining them. The traffic was gridlocked and I was stuck in the middle of a protest which I had no idea what was about. It was all quite jovial and unthreatening, but it looked to me like I would not only miss lunch, but also the museum. 

To add extra excitement to the situation I was on stand-by for a TV show that was being recorded this evening, in case anyone went down with Covid. It was unlikely I would be needed, but I was being paid to be ready to drop everything. But how would I drop everything if I couldn’t move?

There was a turning point maybe 50 metres up the road, but no way of getting to it. A few cars had tried to use the bus lane to get round the jam, but  they had now blocked the bus lane.

Eventually enough cars did a U turn that I could get to the turning point as long as I briefly broke the law and passed the car in front of me in the bus lane. Maybe I’d get lunch. 

But although I got to Trafalgar Square, that was also gridlocked. I managed to take the first exit, but that road was also jammed. Nothing was coming the other way, so eventually I followed the lead of the car in front of me and drove on the wrong side of the road took the first right and then ended up on Whitehall. Again I needed to drive away from Nelson as nothing was moving the other way. But Westminster traffic was also barely moving. I remembered once parking on Great Smith Street down the back of Westminster Abbey and no one else was heading that way, so I snuck round the Victoria traffic and finally found a space. I felt like an absolute hero. I had done a brilliant job of getting out of about three almost impossible situations and saved the afternoon (for myself). I was a good mile and bit from Covent Garden and knew my family would have finished lunch, but made my way back up to them, arriving just in time to eat their leftovers. Which was actually just about enough cold food to get me through the afternoon. 

In the end it was probably a good thing we were parked so far away as if we’d been in Covent Garden, even when we left at 4pm, we’d still have been pretty much stuck, but it did mean going on a trek with the kids to get to the car, whilst showing them the city’s history and my daughter wondered why there were no statues to individual female soldiers. 

The Transport Museum was pretty good fun and we got to meet Santa so the kids got a socially distanced photo with him and a badge. I had worried that we wouldn’t have a photo with Santa this year as I believe he is subject to Covid restrictions apart from on Christmas Day (let’s face it, he’s bound to get it then), so it was nice to see him. I asked my son if he’d told Santa what he wanted, but he hadn’t and so even though we were some distance away he said what he wanted in a super soft voice. But the thing is Santa can hear that, cos he’s magic. What the fuck are we teaching our kids.

We then got ridiculous ice creams circled with candy floss from the Milk Train shop nearby. Again probably good that the kids had to have a long walk to make up for ingesting all that sugar, rather than getting straight in the car.

We passed a small phalanx of police officers preparing to go into the square to break up the demonstration. It was nice to see the officer in charge was a reasonable man, saying that they should keep things peaceful if possible, but he then did add that force might be used if necessary. Though I don’t think they were likely to encounter much resistance from the happy Sikhs they still looked nervous, as well they might. There weren’t too many police officers and there were lots of protesters.

Even though the day was strewn with stress and me not getting a proper lunch I enjoyed myself and we made all the disruptions work for us. Best of all I got the all clear that I wasn’t required for the TV job, so I got paid for taking my kids to London. I’d like a few more jobs like that to be honest. Thanks Covid. You’ve really done me proud this year.

Once home I managed to find out what the protest was about. They disrupted my day, but it seems like a good cause and they’d travelled from all over the country. It added a bit of excitement to my family day too and made me feel a bit like a low rent James Bond. So all was good.