carnival: the aftermath
Notting Hill Carnival after nightfall is the nearest I hope to get to the Apocalypse (Zombie or regular).
The whole event had slipped my mind but came barrelling back into my consciousness when en route to see my newborn niece I got stranded on Harrow Road. Two buses, umpteen swearwords and thirty minutes later I had progressed to being stranded on the wrong side of the Paddington flyover - negotiating my way through drunken crowds, menacing looking gangs of young men, streetfights, puddles of urine and vomit, badly lit underground passages and feral estates - my face set in its best 'do not fuck with me' expression by way of deterrent to conversation, assault and disaster.
Although not an uplifting time, it was pretty hilarious when a drunken man I was attempting to pass bellowed at me: "Where do you think you're going, you sober c**t?"
The whole event had slipped my mind but came barrelling back into my consciousness when en route to see my newborn niece I got stranded on Harrow Road. Two buses, umpteen swearwords and thirty minutes later I had progressed to being stranded on the wrong side of the Paddington flyover - negotiating my way through drunken crowds, menacing looking gangs of young men, streetfights, puddles of urine and vomit, badly lit underground passages and feral estates - my face set in its best 'do not fuck with me' expression by way of deterrent to conversation, assault and disaster.
Although not an uplifting time, it was pretty hilarious when a drunken man I was attempting to pass bellowed at me: "Where do you think you're going, you sober c**t?"