Owning a car in London is kind of like starting a relationship with your mothers pet goat. While the exterior may look nice and the interior may be warm and inviting, it's never really going to get you anywhere. So I choose to forgo the relative luxury and comfort that owning my own vehicle would provide for a somewhat more subdued, depressing but altogether faster form of transportation which comes in the form of sitting along side and basking in the company of the wide variety of societal dregs who all enjoy the various, wide ranging and interesting odours given off by them, the always entertaining unwashed masses on our wonderful public transport system. Where if you haven't been given the opportunity to watch the bus driver and a 14 year old boy wrestle in the street for five minutes because the teenager wouldn't pay the fair, you should demand your money back.