The luggage invasion

London is full of suitcases. Accompanying these cases are the seeming millions of bewildered foreigners who are stranded here due to the invisible volcanic miasma that overhangs our fair city. When the news first broke that all planes were grounded, I was incredibly sympathetic. However, my sympathy has been gradually eroded by the menace that is the suitcase en masse. They fill the library as people squabble over the computers, trying to find alternative routes home. They viciously trip you when dragged through the streets by their aimlessly wandering, directionally challenged owners. And they cause my journey home to take twice as long as it ought to by lingering, seemingly abandoned, in tube stations, prompting evacuation of the immediate area so investigation can take place. This is not an 'unavoidable delay' Mister Tube Station Announcement Man. This delay could have been easily avoided had the owner of said case had just put it in a corner, sat on it and stayed there. Now some poor bomb disposal expert has to tentatively open a case, which will turn out to be full of a week's worth of dirty laundry and a small plastic model of Big Ben. Excellent use of his time. Thank you very much unpronounceable Icelandic volcano, for sharing your bounty with us.