Ah, the million-pound question. Is it the RMT? The ASLEF? Some splinter group that only strikes on full moons? Each union has its own hobbies: demanding better pay, better pensions, or just a free cup of tea for the drivers. If you see “RMT” or “ASLEF” in the news, start panicking—but only a little.
Here’s a pro tip: Tube strikes rarely happen without a massive warning. They’re like the weather warnings for snow in London—dramatic, maybe chaotic, but you usually see them coming. If you haven’t heard anything by 8 PM tonight, there’s a solid chance you’re sleeping in your own bed and taking the Northern Line tomorrow.
But let’s be real: the real strike might be the one on your brain. The one where you refuse to get out of bed because you saw “industrial action” and decided to play hooky. I’m not judging. I’ve done it. We’ve all done it.
The "Oh No, The Bus" Plan
If the strike is on, you have two options: embrace the chaos or hide at home. Buses become magical unicorns—rare and crammed full of strangers’ elbows. Cycling is an option if you own a bike and the courage to face the roundabouts. Or you can walk. London is walkable if you’ve got three hours and a podcast about whales.
London Tube Strike LIVE - Chaos across Underground network as TFL staff
Honestly, the vibe during a Tube strike is weirdly communal. You’ll see strangers bonding over shared misery at bus stops. Someone will yell about “the man” keeping them down. You’ll feel like you’re in a post-apocalyptic movie where the only fuel is passive aggression.
But here’s the kicker: strikes often get cancelled at the last minute. Right when you’ve accepted your fate and bought a fold-up scooter, someone in a suit and a union rep hug it out. Then the trains run, and you feel a little cheated. Where’s the drama now?
