With the Christmas rush on us, it’s time to talk about rush hour and holiday seasons. Londoners are famously polite. They say “sorry” for everything, even when you bump into them. But step onto the Tube during rush hour, and you will witness an extraordinary transformation: politeness evaporates, survival instincts kick in, and everyone becomes laser-focused on getting home alive.

Rush hour happens twice a day, once in the morning (roughly 7–9 a.m.), once in the evening (5–6:30 p.m.). During these windows, the rules change.

For starters, the trains become inexplicably, absurdly, impossibly full. Trains arrive every 1–2 minutes, but it makes no difference. Thousands of commuters pour in from every direction like lava. You’re squeezed into a carriage so tightly that you can’t lift your arm to scratch your nose. Your face is wedged against someone else’s coat. You’re breathing someone else’s exhaled air.

Londoners accept this as normal.

During rush hour:

• No one smiles.
• No one speaks.
• No one makes eye contact.
• And no one, absolutely no one, will let you cut in front of them.

If you’re a tourist, avoid the Tube at these times unless you absolutely have to. And if you do, follow these rules:

Rule 1: Do not hesitate.
When the doors open, you must move. Quickly. Confidently. With purpose. Hesitation is defeat.

Rule 2: Do not attempt to remove your coat.
You won’t have the space. You’ll get stuck halfway, trapping your face in your own sleeve while everyone around you silently judges.

Rule 3: Do not expect your personal space bubble to survive.
You will become part of a single, collective passenger organism. Accept it.

Rule 4: Hold onto something, anything.
The Tube lurches violently sometimes. During rush hour, there is no space for falling dramatically onto people. You will only land on someone’s laptop.

If you can navigate a rush-hour Tube journey without crying, dropping something, or accidentally elbowing someone in the ribs, congratulations, you’re now a London commuter.