When the strike hits, TfL releases a spreadsheet that looks like an ancient prophecy written in code. “Part closure,” “limited service,” “no service until 10 AM” — these are the phrases that haunt your dreams. On the Bakerloo line, for instance, you might get trains running but only between Harrow & Wealdstone and Queen’s Park, leaving you stranded like a penguin in a car park.
Surprising fact: during the 2026 strikes, the Waterloo & City line — that tiny little worm that only goes from Waterloo to Bank — didn’t even bother to run. It’s so short that a strike closure is basically the train’s way of saying, “Nah, I’m taking a mental health day.” Meanwhile, the Elizabeth line, the shiny new kid on the block, sometimes keeps running because it’s operated by a different company. That’s right—your golden ticket might be the one train that actually shows up, leaving you to smugly wave at the cursed masses as you glide past them.
Bus Replacement Services: The Cruel Joke
Ah, the “rail replacement bus.” This phrase should be illegal because it promises efficiency and delivers a clown car on wheels. If your Tube line is struck, TfL often deploys these buses, but they take twice as long and stop at every single lamp post. I once took a rail replacement bus from Finsbury Park to Wood Green—a 7-minute tube journey—and it took 45 minutes. I aged three years and learned the names of every bus driver’s children.
Ultimate Guide: London Tube Strikes Explained & What to Do Now
And let’s talk about the surge pricing on Uber. During a strike, getting a ride costs more than a round-trip to Mars. I’ve seen a 3-mile journey quoted at £85—which is the price of a small used car. You’re better off buying a unicycle and a prayer.
