I arrive at the station, walked through the throng to the platform and expecting the worse, nothing could prepare me for the sight that met me. If you have never travelled at rush hour to central London at rush hour in the midst of a train strike, then you can’t imagine the mayhem this causes. With most trains either cancelled, running late or with insufficient carriages to cope with the thousand plus passengers that want to get on each train, this is mayhem, chaos!! All along the full length of the platform, people stand three deep, with more joining every second. I walk far along the platform trying to determine my best chance of getting on the train and join the throng in expectation that I might possibly get on the train.

Let me try to paint a picture of the scene…. The previous train was cancelled and this one is already running ten minutes late. When it arrives, several dozen people try to get on compressing the mass of people already standing at the carriage doors until finally pleading and cajoling, I and no more than six others manage to squeeze ourselves on. It’s so tigh,t my briefcase is jammed so hard, I simply cannot move my right arm. My body is pressed against the woman who got on in front of me, the remaining five passengers that managed to get on with me are crushed against my left and right arms and two more behind me. My body is held so tight by the weight of the other passengers that my left arm is stuck at an angle across my hip so that my hand, is more or less in front of my groin. The woman to my right is also at an angle to me and try as we might to try to create even a slight respectful distance, my right arm hangs down pressed against her right breast and I can feel her left leg against the back of my right hand. I look over my shoulder and do the typical English thing of apologising even though there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. She looks up, tells me its ok, apologises to me and with the train door closed, the train slowly moves away.