8 July 2005
From the resigned "oh, the tube is off... never mind, I'll just get the overground" to the "wait a minute, the whole tube is off...?".
From the phone call telling me about an explosion at Aldgate, to the realisation that something had gone very wrong.
From the immediate worry for the safety of a blind colleague to the upsetting realisation that there was little I could do.
From the frustration at my lack of ability to communicate that I was well to friends, colleagues and loved ones to the worry at the lack of communication in return.
From the sick feeling as I stood outside a clothes shop under the bridge at Finsbury Park where I heard about the bus explosion, to the surreal feeling as I boarded a bus to make my way north, and home again, and the small comfort as I watched people going about their daily lives seemingly unaffected by the chaos striking central London.
From the relief I felt as word started to arrive that those friends, colleagues and loved ones were safe, to feeling overwhelmed by the outpouring of concern shown for my safety by so many people - friends old and new, acquaintances, even strangers.
London is not the city of my birth. It may yet be the city of my death - whenever that may be, and however it will happen.
What it is, and will remain, until I choose otherwise, is the city of my life.
I moved here in late September 2001 - in the very recent aftermath of the attacks on New York - to make a new life for myself. To take hold of the opportunities afforded by living here and try and realise my full potential - whatever that is... and I love it here.
So many people told me that they thought I was crazy to move here. That London is a dirty, smelly place, full of muck and pollution. A hard city, with crimes committed on every corner, and populated by unpleasant, rude people.
That London is not my London.
My London is a place where I've grown, and changed. Where I've been welcomed with open arms. Where I've seen and experienced great community spirit. Where I'm continually amazed at the sheer diversity of the people around me. Where I really, truly, believe that I can be whoever I want to be.
I'm not at work today because my office is closed, but on Monday I'll be back at work, travelling through Kings Cross every day, as best as I am able. I will still have lunch in Russell Square Gardens. I will still wander the streets of London, and use whatever means of transport I feel like using... and nobody... nobody will change that.
Maybe it's because I've become a Londoner.
I'm glad to see you're OK (and defiant).
A bunch of us are starting a pledge to gather in defiance of the terrorists and solidarity with those injured or bereaved.
http://www.pledgebank.com/solidarity
Spread the word if you can.
Pixeldiva, glad to see you're safe! I confess to never really liking London all that much but this certainly changed upon seeing the resolve of you London lot, determined to not be terrified by this. I think it is safe to say that most people in my country are awed by you and your spirit, in which panic does not feature.
Pix. You're a city girl through and through. You'd probably feel like a fish out of water in the countryside.
Have a great weekend
I never can say no to a London gal :-)
No dear daughter you are a Scot and you may not remember the motto of Scotland "Wha dor meddle wi me" or in English Who dare meddle with me.
Yes mum, but that's the beauty about London - the strength comes from all the different cultures coming together.
Being a Scot doesn't make me any less of a Londoner, any more than being a Londoner makes me less of a Scot.
It's a dual state of being.
I'm glad to read that you are ok.
I say we send you to battle the cowardly terrorists. I bet you'd really give it to 'em. =O)
-Thomas
May God bless you and your London. Our prayers are with you!
I can think of no better expression of solidarity than all the photographs of London being posted on weblogs. Far more meaningful than "signing" a website or texting a list.
Excellent post. I heard someone on the radio yesterday talking about whether a system could be developed to screen people getting on the underground for weapons: analogous to the checks at airports.
Surely that is not the appropriate response to these outrageous acts? As you say, we should continue to live our lives as before, without having the spectre of impending disaster constantly hanging over us.
Otherwise, these evil cowards will have won.
There's no need to sing that Capital Radio ad.
Yeah your London is my London. I also get a lot of "Why exactly are you here" especially when it rains. But I'm a big city boy and London is my city.
I see my formative years as being spent in London. Not my teens but the ages 23-30. I live at home before then, and pretty much every problem was solved by the folks (to one degree or another) and my life was pretty much in the context of being part of a family.
Coming to London, was a mark of when I had to and started growing up. I became who I am in London. I'm not a Brit, but I sure as fuck am a Londoner.
Because for all it's muck, London has so much going for it. And it has me.
It's good to see your written word. Be well.
... the online home and (not very) alter(ed)-ego of Ann McMeekin, a recently freelance Web Accessibility Consultant.
... passionate about many things, most of which will turn up on this site at some time or other.
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