So that was the Olympics and apart from a few shut downs early on it wasn’t the transport apocalypse predicted. Although we were running an hour later than normal and the last trains were virtually empty there were still some die-hard drunks that gave some mini cab driver a welcome bonus. On Thursday there was a gentleman who got off at EPP and was heading over the bridge towards Plat. 1 in search of a train back into town but when informed that the last train was long gone admitted that this wasn’t the first time he’d found himself here.

At least he knew what to expect unlike the couple I discovered last night sleeping at WER, him with his head thrown back resting on the pressure vents and her collapsed on his shoulder with her hair all over her face, a scene so touching it almost seemed a pity to wake them. After I’d roused them from slumber they took a few seconds to take in their surroundings before eventually hauling each other off the train in a commendable example of team work and stumbling off up the platform without any complaint. I’d reached the front end of the train before the Station Super informed them that there were no more trains EB but I could still clearly hear her howl of “You’ve got to be joking!!!” from 130 metres.