7 years and counting

High visibility

A cursory glance at most news websites and almost every picture seems to feature luminous yellow police jackets.

Sounds like we had our own MetPD Blue this morning with armed plain clothes officers chasing a suspect, possibly complete with suspect belt, down onto a tube platform and cornering him on a train before "unloading five shots into him" if one eyewitness is to be believed.

We're constantly bombarded with action thrillers, gritty police dramas so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that even the simplest of descriptions conjurs up an almost movie-like scene: I can almost hear the hard edged jazzy soundtrack and see the camera pans. Sure we're used to uniformed police in the Square Mile, at Heathrow and on guard at Westminster but never a dynamic, plain-clothed, automatic pistol-drawn chase down into the capital's underground arteries. It's probably the most disturbing scene that carriage of people will ever see.

I return home this evening having again been detached from events in the leafy Hampshire countryside and am fully expecting another strong visible police presence at stations. Again, it's hard to put into words how commanding and aggressive the response has been from the Met & British Transport Police: not at all the image needed or displayed on a 'normal day' which makes it even more impressive.

Extreme dismay

Two weeks on and it looks like some other nutters have decided to try and blow themselves up... and they can't even do that right. Apparently "the man who was holding the rucksack looked extremely dismayed".

Well that just says it all, doesn't it brother? Perhaps you should test the detonators when you next meet the rest of your al Qaeda mates?

Coverage: Sky News, BBC News

Lost in Victoria

Despite London being my home I felt somewhat disorientated while waiting at Victoria for a visitor the other weekend.

It is truly the London terminal. Waterloo International may have more stylish clientelle, Heathrow the more cosmopolitan jetset but this is the nuts and bolts of international travel in and out of London even in 2005. Not once did I see a Greenline bus at the Victoria Greenline station; some were National Express, others Megabus (the Ryanair of the roads and now dubbed 'Maybe Bus' given that Saturday's performance) but the vast majority seemed to be Czech or Polish coaches.

We don't make it easy for our visitors though: a vast sprawling railway terminus, underground station, bus station and two coach stations. Overheard one 'Glastonbury type' looking for Gate 9 and did my good deed for the day pointing out there wasn't a Gate 9 at the Victoria Greenline coach station and that she needed to be at Victoria Coach Station.

However such confusion wasn't the reason for my feeling lost: I can do transport logistics in a jot! Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of coach travel or of the demographic. The occasional swarm of backpacks, the diesel engine bass line and the cigarette fumes: stocking up before a long trip.

Victoria knows and exploits the demographic though: fast food hall hell, the poshest place being a Cafe Rouge cringingly pronounced 'Rowge' by a couple of middle aged (English) women. Little cafes are also set to extract the last bit of sterling by charging £2.50 for a fruit juice: a final kick in the back pocket from the UK.

That Saturday was mad in the capital anyway with Live8, various marches, tennis finals etc. Maybe that added to the lost feeling. I'm still convinced for the need for an exam before anyone steps foot on the busy streets of London: Escalator and Pavement Etiquette 101 would be a good start.

Moving on

At the moment I don't have to use the Tube for work: as much as I love it and in spite of its faults it's not a pleasnt place with an OD of company. In the summer it's hot down there and in the winter, well, it's hot down there. Last Friday I used it for the first time since the events of Thursday. Eerie it was too.

Virtually empty the Tube cars clattered and rattled against rail, reverberating against the claustrophobic tunnel walls to a crescendo. Passengers usually avoid any kind of eye contact but this time people connected longer than for it to be a momentary lapse in concentration.

Some journalists have suggested this is out of fear or suspicion: is that man a suicide bomber, does that bag belong to her? I disagree. I think people needed some recognition, some non-verbal reassurance from their fellow Londoners of shared feeling and respect: not to the level of a smile or a nod, just an instinctive and brief link. In the aftermath of July 7th Londoners have (temporarily?) lost their social commuting tunnel vision.

In the attempt to terrorise us the bombers have actually prompted a resurrection of blitz spirit and community: it may not show its self for much longer in everyday commuting but in one way that's the whole defiant point and it demonstrates that such spirit is still there 60 years on.

Proud

I live in the greatest city in the world. I know this when I see Ken's drained & emotional speech in Singapore, interviews with Rudy Gulianni (ironically in London & just a short distance away from one of the explosions) and, most importantly, the response & attitude of fellow Londoners and the emergency services.

My mood may have been dented since Wednesday but my pride certainly hasn't.

Time to mourn and move on.

The journey home

Tubes not running, only a limited service on the buses and travel to London on the train being discouraged on every tannoy and electronic sign. A few reflections on the way back to Wimbledon...

Having not been there today I'm not in the best position to comment but I've picked up an overwhelming sense of how well the 'authorities' have dealt with today's events, with the possible exception of communication on the trains involved but no change there.

People have been evacuated quickly, police and emergency services on the scene and in the sky in abundance. To give the general public their due there seems have been an impressive level of calm: a sense of shock but not surprise.

The nightmare scenario that's been painted for the capital since 9/11 is that we wouldn't be able to cope. Though today may be no 9/11 whoever's done the emergency procedures and has been managing today's events has done the capital proud. The only confusion was this morning as events were still unfolding i.e. when no-one knew what had actually happened and hearsay rant rampant online.

This evening I noticed the station clear plastic rubbish bags that replaced the litter bins at the height of the IRA bombing campaign have quietly gone. Information about what services were working was clear and available. At every station I passed there were local police at the exits to record any eyewitness accounts from people returning from the City.

There was a somber silence from fellow passengers: no tinny iPods, no raucous laughter, no screaming into mobile phones. Everyone was thinking about the same thing. In adversity comes unity and that's why attacks like this won't succeed.

As I boarded my train the heavens opened.

Many happy returns

The web is already full of comments of lucky escapes from those caught up in this morning's bomb attacks.

A friend of mine 'reported in' an hour or so ago. She'd been stuck on the tube behind the one that was attacked at King's Cross and had to evacuate the station along with injured and be-sooted fellow passengers. She then walked down to Holborn to catch a bus to her eventual Liverpool Street destination. Of course she didn't realise that only minutes earlier a device had been detonated on a bus just up the road near Russell Square.

She's now literally stuck in the office with no way to get home yet. Happy Birthday.

R U OK?

I've never had so many text messages, email round robbins and voicemails as I have in the last few hours. A demonstration of social engineering and email capacity as mailing lists are hijacked or hastily put together to check whether friends and family are ok, are caught up in the mêlé or have a story to tell.

I've been guilty of initiating such checks myself although possibly not to the manic extreme of some others nearby: London's a big place even for a big disaster and the result of everyone jumping on a mobile phone has been to cripple the network and raise greater panic. Perhaps we should all have an 'I'm OK' button on our phones to reassure those who might be worried automatically.

Between personal messages and eyewitness accounts we probably knew more than Blair did when he was on TV at midday. No doubt the background will unfold over the next few hours and days.

July 7th?

Last night's jubilation has been replaced with trepidation. First the reports said there had been a power surge (shutting down the entire tube network!), the next there are bombs ripping apart double decker buses and buildings being evacuated left, right and centre. Sometimes I'm not sure whether this instant but unconfirmed news is a good thing.

No-one seems to be certain what's happened or what's happening. Watch this space: it's all I'm doing at the moment tucked away safely in deepest darkest Hampshire.

The finish line

The gold medal... the only medal. What can I say? I could analyse how London came to deserve and win the right to stage the Olympics in 2012 but I'm not going to.

Firstly because I'm still on such a high and secondly because that high led me to one or two celebratory drinks this evening.

Midday came and there was a painful, anxious knot in my stomach: I was so nervous as result time approached, hitting the 'reporter blog' on the BBC News website every minute or so in between tweaking my Excel spreadsheet.

12:46 passed and by now the website had ground to a halt with not a TV or radio in sight. A few minutes later someone's phone rang and a whispered 'London' provoked cheers and applause that rippled around the nearby offices. My busy, serious day was put on hold temporarily.

I made phone calls, sent texts, hugged one particular colleague who was walking my way as I'd gone looking for her.

'Ecstatic' is a word rather overused today but there are few other words that describe how I've felt since the result. I'm thrilled, shocked and very very proud to wear my London2012 lapel badge this evening.

London, taking on the role of the traditional British underdog, has done good. What an honour, an opportunity, a responsibility.

Spontaneity

Funny how you stumble onto the most fantastic, unexpected (and therefore even more fantastic) experiences in London. Here's my top 5 so far:

1. gate-crashing the VIP opening night of the Tate Modern thanks to confident attitude and appropriate modern artist attire of jogging bottoms and T-shirt
2. browsing through HMV and finding that Kosheen were about to do a promotional live set and being front of the queue
3. walking across Hungerford Bridge with a friend and being presented with the most amazing fireworks display I've ever seen: completely free at the side of the Thames
4. going to a gig in Clapham on the last night of a tour and ending up in someone's front room for an extra set
5. winning a trip to a concert at the top of the BT tower at the last minute and realising what a breathtaking sight the capital is at night