The last time Oxford Street came anywhere close to being “pedestrianised” was in the utter depths of the first Covid lockdown in spring 2020. I recall running — okay, perhaps jogging — blissfully along the central white line through a desolate West End from Marble Arch to Centre Point as part of my officially sanctioned hour of exercise.
Yes, there were occasional buses, but few and far enough between to take evasive action. If I tried the same stunt now, clearly I would be flattened within minutes — even in the dead of night.
