One of the things that was great about London is that it gave us a little taste of city life, which you don't get very often in Basel. Saturday night, we had a real city experience. We were taking the Tube back to our hotel, and when we got on the train there was a woman who was loud and agitated, yelling obscenities, etc., (in other words, nothing out of the ordinary). At the next stop, the woman--let's call her agitated woman #1--got out of her seat, charged across the car, and spat on a man (and several people seated near him) who had until that point been sitting quietly--hence, we'll call him quiet man--before returning to her seat. All of a sudden quiet man became not-so-quiet man--he got up out of his seat and charged over to agitated woman #1, yelling about how he would beat her, etc. At this point it became apparent that there had been an altercation of some point and that the screaming woman, while perhaps a bit unstable, perhaps had good reason to be agitated (I thought it looked like her mouth was bleeding, but Gretchen wasn't sure). Meanwhile, everyone on the train--including us--reacted with typical urban (and British) stoicism: just look away and pretend nothing is happening (the man across from us, who had been hit with flying spittle, finally brushed the spittle off his coat with as much dignity as he could muster). At the next stop agitated woman #1 got off, screaming back at not-so-quiet man something about how he was lucky she didn't file charges, etc. So just when we thought things were going to calm down, the woman across from us--we'll call her agitated woman #2, although she did not appear to have any connection to agitated woman #1) stood up and started screaming at not-so-quiet man that he had no right to do what he did to agitated woman #1 (it sounded like references to beating her or kicking her in the face, but she had a thick Caribbean patois so it was hard to understand), and that she could be a witness against him. Meanwhile, not-so-quiet man--also in a thick patois--started yelling back repeatedly that he would stop the train and beat agitated woman #2. The screaming between the two went back and forth for some time, again with everyone trying to pretend it wasn't happening (and with Gretchen plotting our exit from the car). It was the kind of thing where, had we been in the States, it wouldn't have been surprising if someone would have pulled a gun. Fortunately we were in a less well-armed country, and there were enough people between agitated woman #2 and not-so-quiet man that it never got beyond words. Finally we got to our stop and agitated woman #2 also got off, still yelling at not-so-quiet man, who continued to yell that he would beat her. Just another night in the big city, I suppose.

(Side note: we had a little comic relief amid the tension--while screaming at quiet man, agitated woman #2 was holding a stuffed yellow duck in one of her hands. At one point she dropped it and, mid-tirade, Gretchen tapped her on the shoulder and was like "excuse me, miss, you dropped your duck." Well, it was funny to us at the time, anyway...)