Wet, wet, wet

London in the dark and the rain has something rather special about it. Rain shining like diamonds on the black of the tarmac. Shop lights reflecting madly in the puddles.


Special that is unless you are out in it trying to get to - well, anywhere. In which case it is an obstacle course for the unwary. An uneven paving stone here will give you an unexpected footbath. Refreshing but rather unpleasant. The umbrellas that suddenly sprout from the well prepared Londoner's hand will just be waiting their chance to jab at your eye, or failing that, any unprotected part of your body (and later, should you find a seat on a train, you are likely to find that some inconsiderate so-and-so has rested their sodden umbrella on the seat previously and you only become aware of this as your rear descends into the warm wetness that you vaguely remember from your nappy wearing days).


Taxis and buses take great delight in driving into the large puddles that form at the side of the kerb where yet another drain has blocked and a small river will shortly appear. Bus queues move as one trying to stay beneath the shelter but away from the splash.


Pedestrians wend a haphazard way between all these and wish for their own personal taxis. Bring back the sedan chair.