strawberrri.diaryland.com
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2005-07-08 | 8:54 a.m.

Yesterday I fully realised the fragility of life.

Wednesday night I had been out in London. I ended up staying with the New Bloke.

Yesterday morning at approximately 8.50 am, he and I started our journeys - him to Canary Wharf to go to work, me to King's Cross to get a train home. If my journey had gone as planned I would have got into King's Cross just before half nine. We got on the Docklands Light Rail on a train that was meant to terminate at Bank tube station, but less than a minute into our journey there was an announcement that the train would be going to Tower Gateway instead as Bank had closed due to a power failure. I even remember thinking that it must be quite a hassle for commuters as Bank is used a lot in the rush hour.

My boy got off at Canary Wharf fine and went to work, and I continued on the DLR to Tower Gateway (extremely close to Aldgate), which I got to at about 9.10. I was greeted by chaos and more emergency services than I've ever seen before, but at that time had no real idea what was happening. The tube station there was closed and I was worried at that moment in time how exactly I was going to get to King's Cross to get home.

I befriended an Italian woman trying to get to the same destination as me. Underground workers told us which number bus to get (which highlights how LITTLE they knew about the situation at that time). We got on a bus. The bus didn't move. We got off again. I had the bright idea of trying to find the Jubilee line as I thought just the Northern line was down. We then found out the entire Underground was closed.

The next bit is when I got scared. I still did not realise what was actually going on - there was just talk of explosions. At quarter to ten myself and the Italian girl boarded a bus going to Oxford Circus from outside the Tower of London. It was one of those bendy buses - twice the size of a normal bus with a joint in the middle - and it was packed. What I also didn't realise at this point was that my boyfriend was desperately trying to call me but the lines were jammed. After having been on the bus for about five minutes I received a text message from him, which said 'Don't get on any buses.' Shit. Shit shit shit. A girl on my bus had managed to get network coverage and was talking to someone on the phone. News of exploding buses came through, at which point I was more scared than I have probably ever been in my life. People were shouting to be let off and we were. I have never been more glad to get off a bus.

I was still with the Italian girl and we were opposite St Paul's cathedral so went and found a Starbucks and stayed there for about two hours. I STILL believed I could get back to King's Cross and go home! I obviously could not. The Italian girl and I departed after she offered to let me come back to hers and I'd made the decision to attempt to walk back to King's Cross.

I spoke to some people in a nearby Tube entrance who informed me that nothing would be running at all for the forseeable future. I had two choices - walk to Natalie's in north London, or walk to Canary Wharf to meet my boy. I had no map, I was miles away from both. I was, basically, fucked, until a Welsh man came along and told a policeman he was trying to get to Canary Wharf and was informed that boats were running from the river. I befriended the Welsh man immediately and we went off to go to Canary Wharf.

I still did not feel safe at this point because not only had I received a message from Natalie advising me to get out of central London, but the New Bloke also asked me if I thought getting a boat was 'a good idea'. But I didn't really have any other option. The boat was fine, I met him at Canary Wharf and we walked back to his, getting in around 3.15 pm, where I finally felt safe.

Yesterday I met and talked to so many compassionate, helpful strangers all trying to assist each other however they could. People were calm and panic was kept to a minimum. I remember the Welsh bloke saying how he was at Euston when the King's Cross bomb went off and he felt the blast.

At first I thought how unfortunate it was for me to be in central London when it came under attack. I now realise that is a completely stupid thing to have even thought. The attacks 'could have happened to anyone,' and indeed they could. They could have happened to me, or they could have happened to the people I met yesterday.

But they didn't.

More than 50 people have had their lives tragically taken away from them and dozens more are critically injured. I don't have a single scratch or bruise on my body as a result of yesterday. I was shaken up, yes, but physically unharmed. I do realise that I'm truly, truly lucky.

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