It's six months next Saturday since the London bombings. Here's the email I sent friends about our experiences on that extraordinary day.
Just a quick note to reflect on today's events. Thanks to all of you who asked after us.
Karen and I are both fine. Because of the collapse of the 'Tesco Tunnel' on the rail line at Gerrards Cross a week ago, we've been driving into London for the last week. Today, that proved very fortunate.
Sitting 36 storeys above Canary Wharf, I relied on exactly the same news reports as everyone else in Britain. In no way did we get any idea of being an eyewitness to dramatic and infamous events. We heard sirens throughout the morning as the police moved around London, but that was the only connection with the tragedy unfolding. The Thames estuary was cloaked by a sinister cloak of fog, adding to the sense of drama.
Just after lunchtime, we took the decision to let everyone go home. (Until then, it made more sense to 
stay put, to avoid placing people at risk from other explosions as they made their way home.) As all underground and overground routes were closed, I made for the river bus from Canary Wharf. I was not surprised to see a huge queue but everyone waited patiently and calmly. By now, the fog had been replaced by summer sunshine.
stay put, to avoid placing people at risk from other explosions as they made their way home.) As all underground and overground routes were closed, I made for the river bus from Canary Wharf. I was not surprised to see a huge queue but everyone waited patiently and calmly. By now, the fog had been replaced by summer sunshine. Stewards guided people to the right boat: "London Bridge on the left, Westminster and Waterloo on your right!" In the aftermath of tragedy, London's ability to adapt was inspiring and impressive. A series of river boats had been pressed into service. All were free. A Mississippi-style paddleboat made its way out into the river, enjoying its transformation from showboat to commuter transport. We made 
our stately progress upstream. A few people tried to get a drink at the bar, not realising that this was not a pleasure trip. Tower Bridge passed above us, with its London flags fluttering defiantly and proudly. The Millennium Bridge, once the unreliable, wobbly bridge, now carried homeward-bound walkers to safety. Finally, the London Eye and Houses of Parliament loomed above us as we made our way to shore.
our stately progress upstream. A few people tried to get a drink at the bar, not realising that this was not a pleasure trip. Tower Bridge passed above us, with its London flags fluttering defiantly and proudly. The Millennium Bridge, once the unreliable, wobbly bridge, now carried homeward-bound walkers to safety. Finally, the London Eye and Houses of Parliament loomed above us as we made our way to shore.The sun beat down as I made my way behind Downing Street and Whitehall towards the West End. I took the opportunity to jump on one of the first buses seen since mid morning, to speed my way to Wigmore Street. Everyone was calm and gave the impression of simply going about their everyday life.
I rejoined Karen at Wigmore Street and we drove off into the empty streets just before 6pm. We passed Edgware Road tube station, still cordoned off but otherwise calm. We had a Sunday-like drive out of central London through deserted streets.
For anyone who lived through the Blitz, this was just another terrible day, but hardly to be compared with what London survived 60 years ago. To those of us who experienced the IRA bombings of the 1930s, 70s, 80s or 90s. this was just another example of man's ability to inflict evil on others in the name of religion. But for those who knew nothing of those terrors, this was a day like no other.
(I took the photos on my camera phone on the afternoon of Thursday 7 July 2005.)
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