Tuesday, 31 August 2010

London is a dangerous place. Just ask my mother.

Take my recent cat-sitting stint in east London. Upon revealing the location of our friends' flat, my mother came out with what can only be described as an absolute corker. Eyebrows raised, eyes widened, she asked in absolute seriousness:

'Really? But what about the gangs?'

As far as I'm aware, this knowledge of gang activity had not been gathered from secret police sources, neighbourhood watch meetings or on one of her regular trips to Fortnum's and back. No, no. I can think of a few culprits who are likely to be the source, but the most likely is the postman. And his Tuesday delivery of The Daily Telegraph.


Fast forward to a week later. To mark our one year anniversary, the Boy and I watched Trainspotting with cider, before getting the last tube into EC1. Our destination was a packed dancefloor bathed in green lasers at one of London's biggest clubs, Fabric. After trying to get to the bottom of why we wouldn't be back until at least 8am the next day, the mother played her trump card.


'Farringdon? Didn't a girl get stabbed there a few months ago?'

'Stabbed? No, no. Shot, wasn't it?' I replied, before removing tongue from cheek, grabbing my bag, one for the road, and heading towards the door.

'You're off are you? Have you got everything? Keys, phone, wallet? Have you...have you....' she paused, reminding herself of Girl Mugged In Queue for London Club, 'Have you made copies of all your card details?'

So, if you listen to my mother, as one of her friends did the other day while weighing up an evening trip into the city ('No, you don't want to be on the tube after dark. Sometimes the trains don't stop where they're supposed to. It's not safe'), London is a very dangerous place. Groups of criminals, debit card theives, stabbings, shootings, runaway trains and much much more are in abundance just miles from my house.

In fact, it's such a dangerous place that I really, really wouldn't reccommend wondering around the city at night. No, no. A much safer option - take it from me - is to stay in the club until it is daylight, and join the gangs on the first tube home.


Farringdon station at 7:30am. Gangs mobilise for another day's pillaging

Londoners be warned: it's a jungle out there.

9 comments:

Alexia said...

I HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE SITTING BY THE TUBE LIKE A HOBO, WAITING FOR IT TO OPEN! I MISS LONDON!!

AFC 30K said...

It's about time she moved out of the city!

The Unbearable Banishment said...

This is the same woman who allowed you to circumnavigate the globe alone? She's the inconsistent type.

smidge said...

Was just about to make the same point as TUB above! London is no worse than Sydney or doesn't she realise that?

looby said...

Oh, happy days! Like Alexia, that was me! Everyone very, um, relaxed but strangely awake :) Thanks that was fun.

London-Lass said...

My folks' view of London is also just as warped (even though they both worked happily up in The Smoke for a number of years with nary a mugging between them).

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Alexia - Make you feel all kind of warm and fuzzy? Or freezing cold if its an english summer, but still.

AFC - Yeah, I get the feeling London's not really doing it for her at the moment.

Unbearable - My thoughts exactly.

Smidge - What she doesn't know doesn't hurt her, apparently. I hope she never sees my photos of Downtown LA's Greyhound station, put it that way.

Looby - It's a brilliant feeling to be wondering around London in that slightly dazed 'oh, it's morning' way.

Londonlass - I blame the Daily Mail. And the Telegraph. And actually all forms of written and spoken media. Especially The Sun.

Kirses said...

Oh good lord I had no idea it was sooo dangerous, having lived all over London for the last 16 years, you would really think I would have noticed...

hampers said...

Oh, I do miss London and F&M. Such a great place to enjoy quality tea and lovely cakes and sandwiches. Just love it all.

 

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