The day after the day before

After the events of yesterday, there is a sort of eerie calm over London today. The place is very quiet. I noticed it first as I was walking down to the Tube station at Whetstone: very little traffic – less even, than on a Sunday. The journey in was quiet and a little slow – the train halted at Finchley Central for a few minutes as people are being bussed in from stations acting as temporary terminuses on the Piccadilly Line, either side of King’s Cross (The mainline station is open, but the underground station, a crime scene, remains resolutely shut while the police do their thing). Even then, when we went underground at Highgate, there was plenty of room; no-one had to stand.

At Euston, the change to the Victoria Line was equally easy and quiet. No queuing, a seat to sit on.

Despite the fact that the congestion charge has been suspended in central London, traffic is lower than normal. It is very quiet apart from the occasional police siren.

It reminds me of the day after the hurricane in 1987.

So much then, for the bulldog spirit, or the spirit of the blitz, that the media were banging on about yesterday. People have stayed at home, taken a long weekend. Hardly business as usual.

The terrorists may not have won, and they won’t, but the London of which I was so proud yesterday has stayed at home today. They may not have won, but it looks as though the game has gone to extra time, and we won on penalties.

Additional

I am not suggesting as some think, that London is a city in fear. I am suggesting that all things being equal, the much vaunted "defiant spirit" of the inhabitants is manifesting as a day off in front of the telly instead of getting on with business as usual.

The day after the day before

After the events of yesterday, there is a sort of eerie calm over London today. The place is very quiet. I noticed it first as I was walking down to the Tube station at Whetstone: very little traffic – less even, than on a Sunday. The journey in was quiet and a little slow – the train halted at Finchley Central for a few minutes as people are being bussed in from stations acting as temporary terminuses on the Piccadilly Line, either side of King’s Cross (The mainline station is open, but the underground station, a crime scene, remains resolutely shut while the police do their thing). Even then, when we went underground at Highgate, there was plenty of room; no-one had to stand.

At Euston, the change to the Victoria Line was equally easy and quiet. No queuing, a seat to sit on.

Despite the fact that the congestion charge has been suspended in central London, traffic is lower than normal. It is very quiet apart from the occasional police siren.

It reminds me of the day after the hurricane in 1987.

So much then, for the bulldog spirit, or the spirit of the blitz, that the media were banging on about yesterday. People have stayed at home, taken a long weekend. Hardly business as usual.

The terrorists may not have won, and they won’t, but the London of which I was so proud yesterday has stayed at home today. They may not have won, but it looks as though the game has gone to extra time, and we won on penalties.

Additional

I am not suggesting as some think, that London is a city in fear. I am suggesting that all things being equal, the much vaunted "defiant spirit" of the inhabitants is manifesting as a day off in front of the telly instead of getting on with business as usual.