Scenes from the British Museum Saturday 13:54. A missing person poster of someone last seen Thursday morning boarding a bus at Euston taped to the fence.
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Scenes from Euston Station - northern end of sealed off area. The media film the covered scaffolding as a statement in itself. Scientologists en masse in orange jackets on the left (to give the impression no doubt they have some sort of legitimate status) try to flog their personality testing. They have been swarming around the Bloomsbury area since Thursday.
Theatre: Aristocrats Life does go on. On Friday evening I caught the Brian Friel play Aristocrats at the National Theatre which turned out to be an interesting evening of Theatre. Friel wrote this play in 1979 and it tells the tale of a rich land-owning Irish Catholic family that gathers for a wedding and secrets begin to unravel. There is a hint of Chekhov to the goings on as well. But the first two acts I found heavy going. A lot of exposition (and Irish history to absorb). And after observing a minutes silence for those killed in the bombings prior to the first act commencing, I found it all too hard to focus on the intricate story. But somehow after the interval it just felt like the story all came together, and I don't think it was the interval drinks that did it. It was just the story then began to move. The most enjoyable part of it was actor Andrew Scott . He played the twit son who perhaps was not so stupid as everyone believed him to be... The rest of the cast were just ...
Conversation at the Cloakroom of the National Theatre The day after July 7, things are a little different. I was staying overnight in Streatham so I had a larger rucksack than usual... Security: You will have to open your bag for inspection before you can leave it at the cloakroom. Paul : Ok I just have a change of clothes in here... Security: You will have to open up your bag and show me what's inside. Paul : Ok well there is a polo shirt... Security: And what's under your shirt? Paul: That is just my jeans and a pair of shoes... Security: Ok now open up the front zipper section. Paul: Ok well in there are just my toiletries... Security (also seeing several packets of Lemsip and Syndol ): ... Hmm and medications... A (walks over to Paul after observing this dialogue from a distance): Darling just tell them its your slag bag and so we can all be done with it...
Scenes from Stockwell Tube Friday 17:57. I had no hesitation about catching the tube on Friday to work. It was a silent statement of defiance against the amateur mass murderers with timers. Although in the morning there was a film crew at Goodge St tube station filming people, just to remind you that on the day after, things weren't going to be the same...
Reflections on a Thursday in London
As the search begins for lost loved ones I recall going through my work yesterday. There was enough to do to not think about the events as they were unfolding. Taking calls, placing calls, locating people, background research, typing messages. It all filled time.
But the scale of it all hit me around lunchtime. That was when I first saw the bomb damage at Tavistock Square on the CNN webiste , which is just a couple of blocks from where I live. I recognised the street by the trees overhanging the road as they are so leafy and bright green. I walk down that street on the weekends on my roundabout way into Covent Garden. It isn't the most attractive part of London. The area is not really anything remarkable about this area at all, but because I live there it is familiar. I had this strong feeling of "That's my neighborhood!". Suddenly the atrocity has a very very localised feel to it.
Then to see the wreck of the red bus, ...