I’ve not written a post for a while due to a combination of broken WiFi and being incredibly busy, but as I return to this page, I can’t write the post I was going to without acknowledging the horrific events of the last 24 hours.
My original post was going to be about a wonderful night/day spent in London laughing and drinking with friends, gallivanting around Soho without a care in the world. We headed to Kingley Court for dinner on Friday night, then onto cocktails in Covent Garden, and then dancing the night away.
Saturday was spent brunching with mimosas at Bad Eggs in Moorgate followed by a beer on the rooftop bar opposite St Paul’s Cathedral and then we headed home on the train at 3pm. Full, a bit merry and so damn happy.
The sun had been shining ( I even turned a bit red on my shoulders!) and the mood everywhere was one of happiness and relaxation. We had walked down the street messing around singing in the morning on our way to London Bridge, when a man stopped and smiled at our terrible vocals and wished us a great day. It couldn’t have been a better day.
But then after getting home and having a lovely girls night in with Clarke, the news started to roll in. 10.30pm and there had been an attack in London. My heart sank as soon as I heard Katie say “I think something has happened in London.” We put the news on and saw the reports of the van, and then vague, unconfirmed reports of stabbings in Borough Market, before reports started to become more detailed and coherent.
Whenever something happens in Great Britain, or Europe for that matter, it always feels too close to home- I know people criticise for the lack of coverage on other bombings in countries such as Syria but it almost feels like we are desensitised to it (At least I know I do) Of course it’s not because I don’t care, but watching the news there is something on there every day about war zones, but you just don’t expect it in Manchester when kids are watching Ariana Grande, or on a Saturday night on London Bridge while young professionals enjoy their weekends. It’s no worse when it happens here, it’s just more shocking.
Having been at London Bridge earlier in the day this attack really made me feel odd. I went cold when I heard where it was- I wouldn’t say it was a near miss or “oh my god it could have been me” because it wasn’t, but it still is strange to think I was there a matter of hours earlier. We had also considered staying an extra night and Katie had thought about a trip to The Shard on Saturday night, so I have never been so grateful for my lack of money to stay in London another night.
I immediately text my friends in London- all are safe and accounted for, but one was stood on the platform at London Bridge heading home when it happened, missing it by minutes, and another’s brother had been on the way to Borough Market for a drink with his girlfriend when she decided she was too tired and they turned back, again, around 10.30pm.
Thank goodness! But my heart goes out to those who weren’t so lucky, so I would like to send all my thoughts to those injured and the families of those who didn’t make it home. I can’t imagine what they must be going through.
One thing I will say though, is that the solidarity that comes out from these events is astounding. For example I was listening to BBC Radio 1 tonight as they play live coverage of the One Love concert, organised as a fundraiser for the victims of the Manchester bombing. Listening to that there are no words of hatred towards one another, there doesn’t even seem to be much talk of fear either. Of course those attending were apprehensive, but they just want to see the music and have fun, the same way they did before the last concert. There are girls who have made friendships with other girls who were at the same show in May, laughing together. Thousands joining together to spread joy and unity, not destruction and hatred, and as long as we keep that British and united spirit alive, the terrorists won’t win.
All my love