Left, right, left, jump. 

I arrive at the platform, the train isn’t here yet.

‘Cool jacket!’, a voice from my right.

‘Huh?’

‘Love the jacket mate!’

A young black man with Marshall headphones and a flat cap.

‘Oh thanks mate!’.

A gentle interaction, an invisible pat on the back that brings my mind down to earth and my heart rate back to 70. 

This is the London I love. It’s 3 a.m. and the lad goes out of his way just to give some stranger a compliment. 

The Underground arrives.

‘Take the Victoria line down to Green Park and then change to Stratford’. That’s what the lady at the Tottenham Hale booth said. And I trust her because much like Obi-Wan to Princess Leia, she is my only hope. 

Seven Sisters, Finsbury Park.

That’s where I started, and I took the same line, in the opposite direction, to get to Tottenham Hale. There was supposed to be a bus for me there but the place was empty when I arrived. No bus, no bus station, no people and no pink elephants. There was a cab driver there and he wanted 140£ to take me to Stansted, an offer which I gracefully refused. 

Highbury & Islington, King’s Cross St. Pancras, Euston, Warren Street, Oxford Circus.

Stand up, backpack on.

Green Park 

Run.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, Islington, Exlington.

Stratford? Stratford? Gray line to Stratford. JUBILEE. That’s the one.

Stairs again. Left, right, left, right, left, right. 

Fucking hell. 

I get inside the empty wagon.

Now breathe, relax. It’s over. I can only just wait.

Westminster, Waterloo, Southwark, London Bridge. 

Time 3.19. Expected arrival at 3.50. There is a bus leaving from Stratford at 4.05 and the next one is at 4.35. It takes 45 minutes to drive from Stratford to Stansted (as per Google Maps). Flight is at 6.20. 

Bermondsey, Canada Water, Canary Wharf. 

I swear the London Underground is named after somebody’s horse racing bet slip. 

There was no stop at North Greenwich. A small win in the short distance race against time.

Canning Town, West Ham.

IROOOONS!

Get up, backpack on, google maps on my right hand.

Stratford.

RUN. 

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right.

I scan the Revolut card at the exit.

‘BLIP’

Air,  a wave of fresh air, out of the Underground and into the wintry atmosphere of East London.

The ground is wet, the sky is dark. Drunk people are going about, shouting, laughing, looking for the nearest kebab. 

Take a right turn, then down some stairs. 

Left, right, left, right, left, jump. 

Now I need to take a left. 

I see it in the distance. 

AIRPORT BUS EXPRESS

In the darkness I can see people waiting, a bunch of suitcases on the sidewalk. I check my phone. Battery 56%, Time 3.59

Sigh.