Sardine Run - Wild Coast, South Africa

Some people think the Sardine Run is a migration of fish up the East coast of South Africa. Not quite! Try venturing onto the Piccadilly line to Heathrow airport on a Friday afternoon!

After an eventful episode of lugging suitcases and dodging commuters between lines at Green Park station, you find yourself among the other hopefuls on a densely packed platform. The train’s approaching. You’re hoping the heaven’s are raining good wishes on your soul and you’ll see a string of empty carriages approaching…. far from it!

As if travelling during peak time is not bad enough, this particular journey tops it off by having peoples’ luggage scattered all over the compartment. The train stops, the doors open and if you’re one of the ‘lucky’ few, you find yourself negotiating your way between bags, elbows and smelly armpits… it’s like the closing stages of a Tetris game, trying to squeeze in any way you can before the doors close.

Then you have about 30 minutes to go before you get comfortable enough to fix your almost-dislocated shoulder and are able to move your feet more than an inch. Most regular commuters jump off by Acton Town and you can usually get a seat by the time you’re at Northfields. Woop-dee-doo… that’s about 30 minutes too late!

But then I should be more grateful. I’ve come to accept this ’special feature’ of life in London and have since discovered an alternative… Gatwick Airport. I now get to do the whole thing over again, but this time it includes running for the train when you have no idea on which part of the platform it’s going to stop!