I won’t lie about the stability of my mental state right now. I’m leaving for Sarawak early tomorrow morning to attend the Rainforest Music Festival, and am more than a little worried that someone could elbow me accidentally and split open my stitches.
And although this is obviously unimportant compared to everything else that happened today, it’s pretty rotten luck for me that just this afternoon, I have paid in full for a non-refundable, non-amendable return ticket to London, leaving 3 August.
The centre of the attacks is where I lived for four years. On any average day in London, I would have been more than likely to pass through Russell Square, King’s Cross or Liverpool Street (where Alec lived) tube stations, and walk past the British Medical Association on Tavistock Square, outside which a double decker bus exploded. Quite separately from the human aspect of the tragedy, watching the television footage I am again struck by the same feelings of anger and despair that I felt when watching the scenes of the fall of Berlin in Downfall – they are hurting a city I love.
Having said that, London has survived much worse and it looks like it’s handling this fine. I’ve checked and all my friends are safe, although of course my thoughts are still with any and every human affected, be they stranger or friend. London got bombed to bits during the Blitz, but while no one else dared to fight back against Nazi Germany Britain still said “We will NEVER SURRENDER” and thank God they didn’t.
I’ll have to make a decision over the next few weeks whether to go or not, and that will of course depends on what unfolds. I also have to consider the worries, perhaps exaggerated, of a mother who will be biting her fingernails the entire time I am away. Right now, I think I can only pray. Be strong, London. My heart never left, so it is there with you still.