Going nowhere

Yesterday the metro service was disrupted. People kept waiting for a train for quite a while.

Why were we waiting?
Probably for some of us there was no suitable alternative: they live far away and the taxi is too expensive.

But what about the rest of us? We could have walked, for example.
We did not know how long it would take before a train arrived, we were getting anxious and annoyed. Yet, we gave it more and more time to start functioning again.

Had they made a formal announcement, we would all reorganise ourselves - move on with our life, so to say. But, in the metro, as usually in life, there was no formal statement "hey you, stop waiting, it doesn't work".

Under uncertainty, why do we give it more and more chances when we see that things don't work and waiting is going to be a waste of time? Is it because we still like to hope? Or is it because of laziness?
Perhaps it's inertia: keeping a conduct we always had (although it has become pointless) requires less effort than facing a new challenge.

Until when? At which point do people realise that walking up and down the platform, making phone calls, reading a book, thinking about life may be a more or less nice way to kill the time but is not a way to arrive at destination? How long does it take until we finally take action?

Eating London away

That funny little rain which annoys you  but does not make you really wet. 

Those very nice services, such as free WiFi connections for starving foreign smartphones.

That people’s incessant hurrying everywhere, like those escalators in the underground, faster than everywhere else.

And that endless choice of food, from the four corners of the world.

Food, yes. Got the feeling that all was about food, this one and half day in London.

For example, my eating the greasiest possible food (fish and chips, in case you are wondering), in possibly one of the most famous Fish and Chips places in town, and sitting next to the occasional American tourist ordering to the amused waitress: “Do you have something which is NOT fried”?

Next stop, Italian ice cream place Scoop, just next door. Having a long chat about living in The City with the funny Italian waiter, totally bored (who would want an ice cream in a grey cold and humid London day?) and considering a life change: making money more quickly by working in some restaurant in Australia.

More food at Marks and Spencer, trying not to get discouraged by the long serpentine queue at check out. Highlight of the day, the season repackaging: your favourite comfort food now becomes your Valentine's eat-in ready made dinner for two. Runner up: among all sorts of impulse junk food next to the cashier, the "healthy" section: chocolate hearts.

And what recommendation for best dinner in town? Or the best option for lunch break? Same answer: Pan-Asian.

To finish off, coffee at Nero: what's wrong with ordering a single espresso ristretto and why should the waitress not believe that, yes, I want something this small?

Inversiones y competencia

Airport, subway, hotel, seminar venue, hotel.

Restaurant, hotel, subway, airport.

It was Madrid, it could have been anywhere. Too quick to even notice.

No, not everything.

The sky was very blue, despite temperatures below zero, and the full moon was beautiful to watch.
Jamon, queso and the steak with Jerez sauce were good - and the people in bars, hotel etc. were fairly impolite as the city reputation wants it.

And all those beggars in the street I did not expect, reminding of the difficult times just outside the shiny seminar room.

And I did exercise my Spanish, successfully understanding, less successfully being understood (as the fact that I paid my hotel room twice proves).
And I have given up looking for the reason why the Spanish word for investment is "inversion" and the one for competition is "competencia".