yesterday, and today
I've woken up this morning, blissfully late because I have the day off work, and the sun is coming through my window and the children in the primary school are having a PE lesson and their giggles and shouts are drifting into my bedroom.
Yesterday already feels like the past, and frankly that is where I want it to stay. Britain is not cowering in fear, and Londoners certainly aren't. And this isn't bravado -- it just genuinely is. I feel a quiet but intense pride in my fellow Londoners that today we will all be living our lives as normal. Lives which have been brushed with tragedy and worry and anger, yes, but our lives, and all remaining unphased by yesterday's events.
The worst part of yesterday, for me, was the couple of hours after the news of the bus bomb, where the sick realisation of what was actually happening took hold and we didn't know what was going to happen next. Before that when we still mostly believed in the 'power surges', there was mostly a feeling of frustration with the London transport system (sorry, London, for doubting you) and various wisecracks about how London could possibly cope with hosting the Olympics. Shutting down the whole system was something practically unprecedented, and I was going through my own personal hell regarding my interview at 9am this morning, but until the news of the bus, nobody was taking it seriously.
Then the reports of a bus "being ripped open like a tin of sardines" started appearing on the website. It still took a while to sink in, but gradually we moved into a couple of hours of slight madness, where we were all ringing loved ones and getting worried texts and messages from friends. But even during that phase, scary as it was, there was no hysteria or panic. Once I'd established that my brother was ok (who had been in BED, contentedly unaware of anything and just slightly miffed that his phone wasn't working) I, like most of my colleagues, settled down to a regular refreshing of the BBC and Sky News websites. And it was terrorism, yes, and explosions had happened, and there was confusion and a little panic being reported, but nobody was hysterical. Watching the news footage last night I was so, so impressed with how the emergency services swept into action, and by the resilient nature of Londoners. Seeing people who had been in the vicinity of explosions talking to the cameras with very slightly shaky voices. One man who looked like he had half of his face burned, casually talking to a news reporter. People had to walk home miles last night (and I feel for them), and they just got on with it. There was an amazing lack of complaint -- just a general feeling of "fuck, that's happened, ok fine let's get on with it".
Dozens of people have died, so far, and they will not be forgotten. But London will mourn for them while it continues on its inexorable path.
And... I am not scared, today. I wasn't yesterday, once I'd established that everyone I knew was OK. London is a vast behemoth that it is impossible to cripple, and look -- today most of the transport is already up and running again. Everyone who can is going to work and living their lives. I am proud and happy to be living here.
Yesterday already feels like the past, and frankly that is where I want it to stay. Britain is not cowering in fear, and Londoners certainly aren't. And this isn't bravado -- it just genuinely is. I feel a quiet but intense pride in my fellow Londoners that today we will all be living our lives as normal. Lives which have been brushed with tragedy and worry and anger, yes, but our lives, and all remaining unphased by yesterday's events.
The worst part of yesterday, for me, was the couple of hours after the news of the bus bomb, where the sick realisation of what was actually happening took hold and we didn't know what was going to happen next. Before that when we still mostly believed in the 'power surges', there was mostly a feeling of frustration with the London transport system (sorry, London, for doubting you) and various wisecracks about how London could possibly cope with hosting the Olympics. Shutting down the whole system was something practically unprecedented, and I was going through my own personal hell regarding my interview at 9am this morning, but until the news of the bus, nobody was taking it seriously.
Then the reports of a bus "being ripped open like a tin of sardines" started appearing on the website. It still took a while to sink in, but gradually we moved into a couple of hours of slight madness, where we were all ringing loved ones and getting worried texts and messages from friends. But even during that phase, scary as it was, there was no hysteria or panic. Once I'd established that my brother was ok (who had been in BED, contentedly unaware of anything and just slightly miffed that his phone wasn't working) I, like most of my colleagues, settled down to a regular refreshing of the BBC and Sky News websites. And it was terrorism, yes, and explosions had happened, and there was confusion and a little panic being reported, but nobody was hysterical. Watching the news footage last night I was so, so impressed with how the emergency services swept into action, and by the resilient nature of Londoners. Seeing people who had been in the vicinity of explosions talking to the cameras with very slightly shaky voices. One man who looked like he had half of his face burned, casually talking to a news reporter. People had to walk home miles last night (and I feel for them), and they just got on with it. There was an amazing lack of complaint -- just a general feeling of "fuck, that's happened, ok fine let's get on with it".
Dozens of people have died, so far, and they will not be forgotten. But London will mourn for them while it continues on its inexorable path.
And... I am not scared, today. I wasn't yesterday, once I'd established that everyone I knew was OK. London is a vast behemoth that it is impossible to cripple, and look -- today most of the transport is already up and running again. Everyone who can is going to work and living their lives. I am proud and happy to be living here.