Getting off a tube train in the not-as-leafy-as-it-sounds North London suburb of Wood Green, I indulge in one of my favourite bad habits and continue to read my book as I walk along the street. In my hand is a dogeared copy of one of Douglas Adams’ Hitchhikers’ novels, I forget which. Stopping to cross the busy street on my way to the bus stop, I look up to check the traffic and notice, to my delight, that one of the men walking towards me on the crowd is holding the same book. We sort of awkwardly gesture at each other with our paperbacks and exchange a wry smile in a manner typical of a Londoner who feels they have made a connection of sorts with a total stranger.
nipperandtyke 