I’m currently reading a biography of the author of the Lord Peter Wimsey detective novels (partly for enjoyment but partly as research for a possible future project – watch this space!)
I pretty much chuckled myself to sleep last night after reading of her first experience of a ‘moving staircase’, ie an escalator, in 1915:
I’d never been on one before, so Charis told me how to step on to it, which I did, and she stood beside me, holding my arm, lest I should get giddy or anything. So, standing still abreast, we took up rather a lot of room and blocked up the stairs. Suddenly an old lady pushed violently past me from behind, and muttering ‘I must get down this thing quickly – I’m always sick if I don’t’ – hurled herself to the bottom in a series of goat-like leaps. Anything more reassuring to a neophyte!