ghost town...

What an eerie quiet transpired through the streets this morning as I walked up to catch the bus to the overland station. At 8am the streets are normally buzzing with the peak hour commuters busily making their way to work. Not even the High Street shops were open. Some guy with luggage, also at the bus stop, stubbed out his cigarette and jumped on the 52 bus headed for Victoria Station. He must have been on his way to catch the train to Gatwick airport....The Jubilee line train from Dollis Hill into Green Park and then 1 stop on to Victoria Station would have been much quicker....but then... there was no way I was game to be sitting on the tube today either.

The 98 came trundling by. I hopped on board, glancing at the stairwell to the top deck and then moving on to the back of the lower deck. I sat in a window seat by myself. My shoulder bag and plastic lunch bag clasped to me. I'd purposefully decided to leave my backpack at home today. Deep breaths. Nervousness present in every part of my being.

A few more passengers, women and children, boarded the bus. Unexpectedly I found myself surrounded by them and glanced around annoyed. Surely there were spare seats elsewhere. It was a near empty bus. Then I saw what...rather who... they were avoiding. A young man of what seemed Middle Eastern ethnicity sitting at the opposite window with a backpack. He caught my eye for just a moment and then turned away.... I understand... He fitted the eye-witness description of the suicide bomber on the number 30 bus yesterday. But then, so does every other Middle Eastern man....and who doesn't carry a small backpack around with them.... I felt sad and sorry for him. I hoped that people giving him a wide berth on the bus would be the only backlash he would experience of yesterday's bombings.

I walked past the Girls' Secondary Islamia College and Primary School to Queen's Park Station. Empty. A sign advertising the school fair on Sunday 9th July hanging over the school gates. 11am to 3pm. I thought I would like to go.

Arrive Queen's Park. 15 minutes to spare before the train to Euston was due. Far too early. No one about. The local schools were closed. No cars on the roads. Very few people. Walking fast and looking down. Fairly typical for Londoners, I guess, but just maybe today I felt a nervous atmosphere about the streets. I felt too agitated to sit and wait for the train so took the opportunity to grab a coffee up the road and pick up a copy of the Metro. Every page full of graphic pictorials of yesterday. A deep sadness welled up within me.

8.40 am. The Silverlink train to Euston arrived. I sat on the train reading my paper and sipping on my coffee. Anxious to get moving. An announcement came over the PA from the train driver. The train would be held at Queen's Park until further notice due to a security alert at Euston Station. .... A quiet murmur throughout the carriage. Everyone nervously looking glancing up at each other. United as commuters and a fearful empathy.

To be continued...