There are little things that niggle in London. With the pushchair, I’ve negotiated many an escalator, especially in the underworld of the London Underground, a charming place to be with a pushchair at the best of times – but I’m sure I’ll comeback to that in the fullness of time.
However, in negotiating these escalators, whilst gripping onto the pushchair, making sure the wheels don’t catch against the side, and making sure the pushchair is suitably balanced before the stairs start to rise, or fall, I grab the moving handrail and hope that nothing slips, dislodges, passes or unbalances itself all the way to the end of the flight. But how many times – how many times – have I noticed that the handrail travels faster – or slower – than the travelling staircase? How many times!
This fact has not yet made me trip, or fall, or become unbalanced, but it is making me question my sanity, and increasingly I am being twisted into all sorts of hunched up and stretched out poses as half my body travels upwards or downwards faster than the other. It’s quite exasperating.
So, we can put men on the moon, connect via huge invisible networks of quarks and blutons and vote for talented dogs at the touch of a button, but we can’t get escalator handrails and footplates to travel at the same speed up and down. I think we need answers.