From my diary, July 7th 2005:
Just got back home after about ten hours travelling from work.

My train this morning was delayed for some reason. Bloody typical. Fire at kings cross. That's all right, I get out at Russell square. Walk to the office. Sit down at my computer. Mark a few answers. Everyone else comes in. In a minute I'll get a coffee. Big bang outside. Sounded like something falling off a lorry onto the road. I mark a few more questions. Boss comes in. he seems a bit flustered. He says theres a bus outside on its side with its roof blown off. We should stay away from the windows and sit near a wall. The HR woman comes down. We leave by the fire exit. Police everywhere. Everything's cordoned off. The traffic lights are changing colour in tavistock square, but there's no traffic. We sit down on the pavement.

If the bus had blown up about five seconds later, or if the bomb had been on the other side of the bus, it would have been right outside the windows to our office.

The train I was on, had it left Russell Square, would have passed on the opposite side of the track from the train that blew up between King's cross and Russell Square about a minute after I got off.

After about ten minutes, the police moved us away from the road, and everyone from my office went and sat in a park. At this point, everyone was still wondering whether more bombs were going to go off. we figured the park was safe as it wasn't anywhere near any major roads. We stayed there an hour. Then we were told we had to go to central office in Holborn. We walked there, about a mile. Edexcel put us up for a couple of hours. Free food and drink. About 2.30pm we'd all signed in and were allowed to go home. No buses in zone 1. Walked from holborn to finsbury park, about 2 hours. Got a bus to Golders Green, another to Finchley. Dad picked me up there and took us home.

Bloody public transport.
(jabboy, Sat 31 May 2008, 0:15, 3 replies)

On that particular day
I was on the overgrouod to Bedford. Client site visit. I was travelling from Brighton. The first I heard of anything going wrong was my sister calling to ask if I was okay.

I did the client visit, and left at a reasonable time - considering I needed to get home to Brighton. I left around 4ish and was home at 19.30. Pretty normal. I was one lucky bastard considering.

Bro works for the NBS. I thought they would have been off their feet that day but they were well on top of things.

in the scheme of things I'd say we did pretty well and got off lighter than the government would have us believe.
(Rilux might be pregnant and has bum-aids, Sat 31 May 2008, 0:29, closed)

One thing I forgot to mention:
Obviously the situation immediately after the bus went off left me needing nicotine desperately, however, the only source I had on me was a cigar that had been in my pocket since a do at a friends house a couple of days earlier. Picture the scene - young city fatcat puffs on a cuban as London goes to hell around him. Would have made a great photo if any news crews had seen me. Oh, and I live in Brighton. The overground to Bedford is 100 times more painful than anything a suicide bomber could do.
(jabboy, Sat 31 May 2008, 0:43, closed)

July 7th 2005
That day I had a gig in central London during the morning, then fly to Belfast from Stansted for a mate's wedding the following day.

Because I was in no rush that morning, I decided to walk to the gig (St Martin's in the Fields, Trafalgar Square) from my place in Kennington.
The gig (it was the memorial service for the founder of Amnesty International) was delayed, and everyone spent the entire time texting friends and family. I then had to walk to Finsbury Park, get a train to Cambs, crash with my parents, and then wangle myself onto a plane the following morning. Made the wedding in time, just.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Tue 3 Jun 2008, 16:39, closed)