Clumsy on the Underground

Many cities have rites of passage that makes you a local. Whether it’s having your bag snatched, being mugged, falling asleep on a night bus or swearing when you hear ‘delays due to a body under the train’.

On the wet and dreary Saturday morning just passed, as I made my way from Clapham to Kings Cross, I had an accident which I think officially puts me one step closer to being a local Londoner.

Walking down the escalator at Vauxhall, I thought to myself how slippery it was in my trainers. The next thing I know, my feet had flown out from under me, my tailbone land on the edge of the escalator and I proceed to slide my way to the bottom of the moving staircase in a rather unladylike way.

Yes – I have officially experienced my first London Underground fall. Worldwide, there are around 10,000 escalator accidents a year – some resulting in death, and I am now officially a statistic. Fortunately though, I received nothing more than a rather sore bottom, a chunk out of my right hand (that did bleed quite profusely) and a rather bruised ego.

Not only that, my fall earned me some extra sympathy and strategically placed kisses-better from the man. Although only after a huge chuckle at my recurring clumsiness.