Tick tock goes the f*cking clock and I’m desperate to get the 16.40 out of Kings Cross. The overground to train from Stratford to Liverpool Street is a joy of punctuality and smoothness.

Not so the Metropolitan Line from Liverpool Street in the direction of Uxbridge.

After waiting one of those London Underground minutes which is in fact several minutes condensed into one, a train arrives. We all board in eager expectation that the darn thing will actually leave the station and start moving.

(Every time I hear the inane announcement ‘ there is a good service on all lines’ I feel like shouting - THERE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A GOOD SERVICE - WHY THE SUPRISE?).

But no. The announcement is made; ‘due to someone walking on the track at Moorgate, this train is delayed…’

Walking on the track? Are they made or rubber or something?

Anyway, they must have either come to their senses or been forcibly removed. Off we went. Jumped off the train, ran up the escalator with i) one laptop ii) one tablet PC iii) one umbrella iv) rucksack full of a huge document called something like ‘recent modifications to x system’. Took a chance my train might be on platform 7 or 8, which it was, leapt over a police sniffer dog, weaved in and out of tourists explaining to their friends back home on the mobile that they are in ‘Kings Cross Station’ and jumped on train just as the doors closed.

Yeah; 150 years of technical development on the world’s first ever underground railway system - but no-one has yet taken ‘error human’ out of the equation.