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Well, apparently yesterday has been tagged with the title 7/7. For some reason I find that quite irritating. I suppose it makes it easier for the Americans to refer to seeing as they do dates the other way round from us. I wasn’t going to go into London today but had to at the last minute. Needless to say I drove and parked only to be finally fleeced to the tune of £34 for the pleasure of my battered, sloping Saab laying idle for 6 hours in an NCP. Thank you Visa! I knew going on the train would be fine but I really didn’t fancy that feeling of foreboding as I transferred from overland train into the dark and highly policed abyss of Vauxhall or Waterloo tube stations. I’m not a particularly panicky person but I did feel nervy today – especially for some reason when I had to walk (run) past big rubbish bins on Oxford Street – my overactive imagination running riot and my heart pounding. Crazy – but it is a genuine fear. I could see people on buses and wondered if those who had sat on the top had thought about it or just done it out of habit. The police were everywhere. There was also an airborne sense of solidarity and defiance which actually made me feel a bit calmer. By early afternoon there was almost a hustle and a bustle back into Soho with many smiling and laughing in the sun. Goodness, both I and all of them are the lucky ones. My heart goes out to all those who never made it home and to those especially that they have had to leave behind. I think the emergency medical services did an amazing job. I don’t like the world we live in right now.

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