h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Could someone unfortunate enough to live in London please write some sort of guide explaining how ticket machines, ticket sellers and various other things work. Each time I go there it all seems strange and new and half-remembered techniques for operating things have been replaced. What few accents do the miserable buggers behind the desks respond to besides London and Near London? How do natives manage to get a ticket out of the machines within a minute and without looking at it, swearing then trying to find a miserable bugger to whom they can complain about the ticket being not what they ordered?

There can be no guide to the underground ticketing system. It is an esoteric art, solis sacerdotibus.

Mr. Zoom, you can't just go spouting Latin like that when you make the rest of us feel ignorant. Ah, maybe a mastery of the language is a pre-requisite for hassle free tube-travelling? Please explain your closing comment so that I can impress people in public.

It means "only for the priesthood" or more loosely, "only for the initiated". I don't really know any Latin (although I seem to remember doing an O-level in it back in the mists of time when, er, people still did O-levels), I got it from a fab conspiracy theory book called The Holy Blood and The Holy Grail. Know it?

Anyway, getting back to the Underground, the best thing is to get on at a station where there is no ticket machine and get off at one where there is also no ticket machine. This means you can use the ticket again. It also means you don't have to suffer the unpleasantness of nasty Zone 1 tourist hangouts like Leicester Sq and Piccadilly Circus. Although you may end up having to eat in a restaurant like Viva in North End Road (this is a shameful plug for my entry about North End Road on my homepage, btw).

One thing that amused me was the sadarse small children with mobiles attached to their belts trying to fish used tickets out of the dump slot before attempting to sell them secondhand to knowlessmen and tourists. It was the first time I'd ever actually seen someone wearing a baseball cap sideways with my own eyes rather than merely on television.

This must've been up the other end of the Central Line. No one wears baseball caps sideways in my "manor". Although there are many baseball caps, enabling me to score very highly on Sloane bingo.

What are knowlessmen? Is this a word I should know?

It is a good word, meaning people without (secret) knowledge, usually relating specifically to the protocol required for transactions within or in relation to a group responsible for the upkeep of the knowledge as secret. Besides people that don't know how the underground works it describes the people that don't know how jobcentres work or how to respond to taxi drivers.

"Only for the Priesthood",heh? Its funny you should mention that because just a little while ago I saw a couple of extremely conspicuous Haicidic Jews (thats probably spelt completely wrong) at Paddington clutching some tickets - they looked entirely at ease with everything, as though they knew exactly what they were doing. So, now it seems we have everything we need to negotiate the London Underground: an O-level in the classics, robes, and curly sidies!

Have you read Terry Pratchett's tips for Americans visiting Britain? It only mentioned buses so there could be some room for the habits and conventions of the tube.

Why Samson, you could almost be describing my ideal man. As long as he also a programmer.

I don't read Terry Pratchett on principle, but I would find a guide on how to deal with London buses very useful, as I have an irrational fear of them.

OK, convention number one: When the tanoy says "mind the doors" or, "the next stop is Tufnell Park", DO NOT say out loud, "what a boring job". Its embarassing.