What a Difference a Day Makes
Greetings to all from the newly reopened front for terrorism. I say newly reopened because a) London is indeed back in business, and also of course because b) London has been through this before on a longer but smaller scale when the IRA used to shut down the Tube at its whim. The IRA though gave warnings beforehand.
The biggest unreported news for me though is the sheer contrast of the day before and the day after. On July 6, at 12:46 in the afternoon, the 2012 Olympic games were awarded to London. This was something that in the run up had completely gripped the nation. Every bit of commentary and gossip was analyzed after six weeks ago reports came out showing that London was now neck and neck with the long time favorite of Paris. It is pretty widely believed (and certainly reported by the tabloid press here) that the day before, Paris lost the eventual vote by declaring in front of some Scandinavian voters that you couldn't trust the English because their food was only superlative to Finland. Consequently, the day of the sixth dawned to more tabloid headlines extolling both the virtues of British cuisine, and the boorishness of Jacques Chirac.
I had my friends Sarah and Tati (they're sisters) making their first visit to England at this point. They really only had one day in London at that point, as they arrived the night before and were flying out the morning of the 7th to a wedding in Poland, but were eager to explore and be joyous coincidence landed in Trafalgar Square (where the victory party was to be held if London won) about two minutes before the announcement. Sarah's photos show crowds of happy people, confetti, a military flyover by the Red Arrows, and a general sense of jubilation.
Both Sarah and Tati had had a great day, and were very enthused about how nice everyone was, how helpful people were, and the cleanliness, history, just plain everything about how London was grand.
The next day, of course, tried to change all that.
At a certain level, it was a day like any other day. I did the morning rituals and strolled to the Tube stop, where it was hot and steamy. An announcement was made that "due to a small fire, the Piccadilly line at Kings Cross station is currently closed." This explained why five trains went by before there was room to shove onto one, as everyone a couple stops up would have hopped off the Piccadilly line to change to the Victoria line (that I was on) to still get off at Kings Cross. Except that once wedged in like a kipper in oil, the doors shut and they announced that this train was now not going to open its doors at Kings Cross either. People were annoyed, but no one was terribly worried. The London tube system is massive, the trains run during peak times at a rate of one per minute, and stuff does happen. It is inconvenient, but that's about it really. I didn't care so long as I finally got to work. I'd been taking the bus the last couple of days, which instead of getting me in 15 minutes early got me in five minutes late which I felt was unacceptable. But I was now running late again. I made it, had the normal sort of "gosh, my commute was annoying this morning" grump at Ali who sits opposite me, and then she had her normal sort of grump, saying there'd been some sort of fire at Aldgate. That seemed odd, I told her, since there was also one at King's Cross. About that moment, Jim phoned in asking me how I'd come to work as Highbury/Islington station was now shut (where we both come from). I told him the thing from Kings Cross must be affecting it.
At that point, Ali and I both started looking on the net, but there wasn't much. When Jim phoned a bit later saying that his walk to the next tube station revealed that all of Zones one and two were shut for trains, it was obvious that something was up. He couldn't get a bus as they were all crammed with people coming off the trains, so he was going to walk. We began to get worried and went back to the net.
Pictures started coming through, along with the first reports that it was not what they initially thought (a power surge causing explosions) but rather bombs going off. Then the report came in of a bomb going off on a bus as well. It was very similar to 9/11 - watching events unfold around you and not knowing what to do or what was coming next. With cell phones shut down across the city as a security precaution (in case the bombs were rigged to phones, and also to deny the bombers a way to communicate easily), it was hard to know who was ok and who wasn't. The streets of London became eerily deserted very quickly.
By this point, I got a call on the business line from Sarah and Tati, who had just made it to Paddington by bus after their tube station shut, and when they arrived there, the bus driver ordered everyone off, saying that zone 1 was now shut to buses as well. They, and the others around them, had no idea what was going on, and they'd missed their flight, so they rang. I debated whether or not telling them was just going to scare them, erred on the side of "knowledge is good" and stressed that Heathrow is about the safest building in Britain. They wound up flying standby, but the miracle is they got there at all as they got on the last Heathrow express before *that* was shut as well.
The next hours were spent pretty much in lockdown in the office, along with the rest of London. With no subway, trains or buses, the only ways out of the city were by foot, bike and taxi. But the police were advising people to stay indoors for safety. We had no idea how long we'd be there, but I did manage to get out to go next door for sandwiches. By the time Jim arrived, we just did what British people do in such times of stress and anxiety.
We made a pot of tea, and we ate a lot of cookies to go with it.
It was all we could do, really. I had notified my family and friends in the US that I was safe, but they were yet to wake up at this point (apart from one friend, bless, who'd had insomnia, e-mailed back and forth with me while I was a raving loon and managed to get me my doctor's phone number. I need to send him something to say thank you. Like a Lotus Elan.)
Eventually, the buses started running again, but lots of people walked home anyway. I grabbed a bus (and a number 30 bus at that) but it should be noted that no one wants to sit on the top of them any more.
London is back in business anyway, and people have coped admirably. They admit they dont' want to be on the tube and the buses, so what did they do? Driving in costs £8 a day, plus parking, so that's not so much of an option. Staying at home isn't an option either. So London, en masse, went out and bought bikes. They sold 5,000 of them in two days, and they're very evident on the roads. Bike commuting is a popular thing here anyway, but it is a very noticable increase this week. According to Charles (a partner here in the office, who cycles to work every morning) it is even more noticable if you are on a bike. "Don't know where they're going, and they're all in my way." says Charles. But he is helping them out, as is everyone else. The CCTV cameras and forensics have already led to arrests, and the realisation that this was native born Britons that did this, not some scary outsider force. While this scares people, it has also made them resolute that this sort of thing will not be tolerated from one or more of their own.
The big story of yesterday was that the US military wouldn't allow its 12,000 personnel into London at the same time Bush was pledging "cooperation." As this escalated into the PR fiasco it should have been, they backed down quickly. Of course, no one kept out the tourists. They were back in force the very next day. As well as on Sunday, when 200.000 people gathered in St. James for a commemoration of the end of the Second World War. It is truly amazing how as a city London has refused to shut, bow, or consider knuckling under. There are changes - the bikes on the streets, the way everyone stops with a bit of alarm if anything with a siren goes by, the palpable tension if a train stops in a tunnel unannounced, and I've started carrying my gym bag unzipped so people can see inside. (I'm not the only one to start doing this.) But the more there are changes, the more the changes are aimed at keeping things the same.
Sarah and Tati are back tomorrow for a few more days. Nerves and all, I think they'll hardly notice the difference. And I think that's wonderful.
Love
Anne
Greetings to all from the newly reopened front for terrorism. I say newly reopened because a) London is indeed back in business, and also of course because b) London has been through this before on a longer but smaller scale when the IRA used to shut down the Tube at its whim. The IRA though gave warnings beforehand.
The biggest unreported news for me though is the sheer contrast of the day before and the day after. On July 6, at 12:46 in the afternoon, the 2012 Olympic games were awarded to London. This was something that in the run up had completely gripped the nation. Every bit of commentary and gossip was analyzed after six weeks ago reports came out showing that London was now neck and neck with the long time favorite of Paris. It is pretty widely believed (and certainly reported by the tabloid press here) that the day before, Paris lost the eventual vote by declaring in front of some Scandinavian voters that you couldn't trust the English because their food was only superlative to Finland. Consequently, the day of the sixth dawned to more tabloid headlines extolling both the virtues of British cuisine, and the boorishness of Jacques Chirac.
I had my friends Sarah and Tati (they're sisters) making their first visit to England at this point. They really only had one day in London at that point, as they arrived the night before and were flying out the morning of the 7th to a wedding in Poland, but were eager to explore and be joyous coincidence landed in Trafalgar Square (where the victory party was to be held if London won) about two minutes before the announcement. Sarah's photos show crowds of happy people, confetti, a military flyover by the Red Arrows, and a general sense of jubilation.
Both Sarah and Tati had had a great day, and were very enthused about how nice everyone was, how helpful people were, and the cleanliness, history, just plain everything about how London was grand.
The next day, of course, tried to change all that.
At a certain level, it was a day like any other day. I did the morning rituals and strolled to the Tube stop, where it was hot and steamy. An announcement was made that "due to a small fire, the Piccadilly line at Kings Cross station is currently closed." This explained why five trains went by before there was room to shove onto one, as everyone a couple stops up would have hopped off the Piccadilly line to change to the Victoria line (that I was on) to still get off at Kings Cross. Except that once wedged in like a kipper in oil, the doors shut and they announced that this train was now not going to open its doors at Kings Cross either. People were annoyed, but no one was terribly worried. The London tube system is massive, the trains run during peak times at a rate of one per minute, and stuff does happen. It is inconvenient, but that's about it really. I didn't care so long as I finally got to work. I'd been taking the bus the last couple of days, which instead of getting me in 15 minutes early got me in five minutes late which I felt was unacceptable. But I was now running late again. I made it, had the normal sort of "gosh, my commute was annoying this morning" grump at Ali who sits opposite me, and then she had her normal sort of grump, saying there'd been some sort of fire at Aldgate. That seemed odd, I told her, since there was also one at King's Cross. About that moment, Jim phoned in asking me how I'd come to work as Highbury/Islington station was now shut (where we both come from). I told him the thing from Kings Cross must be affecting it.
At that point, Ali and I both started looking on the net, but there wasn't much. When Jim phoned a bit later saying that his walk to the next tube station revealed that all of Zones one and two were shut for trains, it was obvious that something was up. He couldn't get a bus as they were all crammed with people coming off the trains, so he was going to walk. We began to get worried and went back to the net.
Pictures started coming through, along with the first reports that it was not what they initially thought (a power surge causing explosions) but rather bombs going off. Then the report came in of a bomb going off on a bus as well. It was very similar to 9/11 - watching events unfold around you and not knowing what to do or what was coming next. With cell phones shut down across the city as a security precaution (in case the bombs were rigged to phones, and also to deny the bombers a way to communicate easily), it was hard to know who was ok and who wasn't. The streets of London became eerily deserted very quickly.
By this point, I got a call on the business line from Sarah and Tati, who had just made it to Paddington by bus after their tube station shut, and when they arrived there, the bus driver ordered everyone off, saying that zone 1 was now shut to buses as well. They, and the others around them, had no idea what was going on, and they'd missed their flight, so they rang. I debated whether or not telling them was just going to scare them, erred on the side of "knowledge is good" and stressed that Heathrow is about the safest building in Britain. They wound up flying standby, but the miracle is they got there at all as they got on the last Heathrow express before *that* was shut as well.
The next hours were spent pretty much in lockdown in the office, along with the rest of London. With no subway, trains or buses, the only ways out of the city were by foot, bike and taxi. But the police were advising people to stay indoors for safety. We had no idea how long we'd be there, but I did manage to get out to go next door for sandwiches. By the time Jim arrived, we just did what British people do in such times of stress and anxiety.
We made a pot of tea, and we ate a lot of cookies to go with it.
It was all we could do, really. I had notified my family and friends in the US that I was safe, but they were yet to wake up at this point (apart from one friend, bless, who'd had insomnia, e-mailed back and forth with me while I was a raving loon and managed to get me my doctor's phone number. I need to send him something to say thank you. Like a Lotus Elan.)
Eventually, the buses started running again, but lots of people walked home anyway. I grabbed a bus (and a number 30 bus at that) but it should be noted that no one wants to sit on the top of them any more.
London is back in business anyway, and people have coped admirably. They admit they dont' want to be on the tube and the buses, so what did they do? Driving in costs £8 a day, plus parking, so that's not so much of an option. Staying at home isn't an option either. So London, en masse, went out and bought bikes. They sold 5,000 of them in two days, and they're very evident on the roads. Bike commuting is a popular thing here anyway, but it is a very noticable increase this week. According to Charles (a partner here in the office, who cycles to work every morning) it is even more noticable if you are on a bike. "Don't know where they're going, and they're all in my way." says Charles. But he is helping them out, as is everyone else. The CCTV cameras and forensics have already led to arrests, and the realisation that this was native born Britons that did this, not some scary outsider force. While this scares people, it has also made them resolute that this sort of thing will not be tolerated from one or more of their own.
The big story of yesterday was that the US military wouldn't allow its 12,000 personnel into London at the same time Bush was pledging "cooperation." As this escalated into the PR fiasco it should have been, they backed down quickly. Of course, no one kept out the tourists. They were back in force the very next day. As well as on Sunday, when 200.000 people gathered in St. James for a commemoration of the end of the Second World War. It is truly amazing how as a city London has refused to shut, bow, or consider knuckling under. There are changes - the bikes on the streets, the way everyone stops with a bit of alarm if anything with a siren goes by, the palpable tension if a train stops in a tunnel unannounced, and I've started carrying my gym bag unzipped so people can see inside. (I'm not the only one to start doing this.) But the more there are changes, the more the changes are aimed at keeping things the same.
Sarah and Tati are back tomorrow for a few more days. Nerves and all, I think they'll hardly notice the difference. And I think that's wonderful.
Love
Anne
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