Mind The Trap.

It was my first time in London.

You know how people say that when you travel you learn substantially more about yourself than the place you visit? Well, after years of idyllic ignorance I realized that I, in fact, do not understand a word of English. After having seen three seasons of Skins, two seasons of BBC's Sherlock and several re-runs of Brian Cox's Wonders series you would think setting apart their British accented Is and Alrights would be kid's stuff. You'd probably try to sneak in a cockney accent and turn your Thank Yous into Fank Yous. That is, until you face a ticket instructor who has an accent heavier than a pick-up truck, whose initial courteous tone slowly starts to escalate into something that can easily pass off as a violent threat.

"Cuhn oi sey yor tecke' plaise? CUHN OI SEY YOR TECKE' PLAISE? Da yuou speahk English?" No sir, not at this moment in time, it seems. Also, could you repeat that please?

Sorry, let me get back to where I left off.

I had never been to London. Strangely enough, the only thing I was looking forward to was riding the Tube. Levels upon levels of underground railways, housing 270 stations linked together almost seamlessly, all summed up in a colour co-ordinated topological map. Tunnels not meant for the claustrophobic, underground passageways that went on forever with artificial lighting; exactly what I needed for optimum naturalistic observation, or as the hip folk say these days, 'people watching'.

That's the great thing about massive crowds. Everyone gets so caught up with what they have to do and where they have to go that everything else turns into meaningless shapes and shadows. You can look at anyone as much as you want to, bore a hole into their skull and they'd get off at the next stop without so much as a flinch. Spaniards, Germans, Brits, Indians, French, Norwegians, Chinese, Africans, Nepalese, Bengalis, Persians, Hybrids - just about every ethnicity imaginable. Also, is it still considered eavesdropping if you're only listening to the way they say it instead of what they say?

While these people knew exactly which line to take, where to stop, which coach to avoid and if their train rides were long enough to permit a nap, I suppose each of them were, just like the rest of us -in one way or another- hopelessly lost. That despite the time difference and cultural semblance, (hey, you have an iPod Nano 8th Gen too?) we had no idea where we were heading; not only geographically, but organically as well.

In a way, we're all following a simplified topological map; thoughtlessly cruising from one point of our life to another without a clear image of how we'll to get to the next juncture. Just a stretch of darkness until we reach our final stop. It's a comforting thought.

London sort of grew on me.