I suppose I was naive to expect the trains would still be running to Heathrow. And I suppose I should have checked before I left the house.
The picture above shows what should have been the first clue: it was taken on a level crossing on the North London line round the corner from where I live: very plainly, no trains had passed over those rails since the snow started to fall. That said, the bridge across the tracks carries the District and Piccadilly lines, and trains were running across it, albeit slowly (squint at the pic, you’ll see one).
But not as far as Heathrow, it seemed. So having trudged up the hill to Acton Town – and I mean trudged, through virgin snow at least some of the way, which was satisfying – I had to trudge back down it again to work from home.
But this is not one of those articles that says “why can’t we cope with a bit of snow! Berlin and Paris manage it! It’s like a Third World nation!” Look, you stupid man who has had a BBC camera thrust in your face, the reason we can’t cope with this sort of weather is that we hardly ever get it and investing in the infrastructure to cope with the kind of bad weather you get for two days a year just isn’t worth it. And I’m quite sure if you put snow in Berlin that was the worst in twenty years, they’d struggle too. So enough of the Daily Mail whingeing already.