Ah, those happy days of gawking, spatially unaware tourists, who would stop to say something unintelligible the second they reached the end of the escalator. I survived through daily use of a solid leather 'pilot bag' of some weight, which proved remarkably effective in clearing the way through Central London.

But then London Underground etiquette, like London driving, is an acquired skill. The 'knowledge' is passed on, to English people alone, by an obscure sect of urban travellers. The prospect of Johnny Foreigner mastering even the basic principles is unlikely; the nuances take a lifetime of tutelage under a "Tube Master".

"May the Farce be with with you, little commuter ..."