25 Jul 2005

Weekend in Geneva


Spent last weekend in Geneva to have a weekend near some water and mountains and away from bombs and shootings. It's a beautiful city, but one oh so terribly 70s - smoked mirrored ceilings and gold. One kept expecting Joan Collins to pop up in a Furstenberg wrap. It's more disco Parisian grand boulevard than retro Swiss chalet.

It's also shockingly expensive. A small bottle of Evian was £2 and the chinese meal I had with lobster and wine was almost £100. So, I mostly ate sandwiches from small delis to compensate.

Saturday, I spent a day walking around the charming old town. Didn't meet a millionaire to whisk me away from the stress of living in London but that's probably for the best, I would never find a Furstenberg wrap in my size...

On Sunday, I boarded a small 'mouette' filled with tourists and their uncontrollable children (I swear one child was trying to pitch itself over the edge) for a boat tour of Lake Geneva (locally, Lac Léman).

Le jet d'eau, the geyser-like fountain that pumps water from the lake 140 m into the air at 200 km/hr, is a stunning sight. I spent a good hour sitting in the Jardin Anglais admiring it. It was originally built to help control clean manufacturing equipment from the factories on the lake, and to control the water levels of the lake (Geneva sits right at lake level and could easily flood) but is now more ostentatious show than anything else, one suspects.

Restaurant recommendation
Tse Yang on the quai du Mont Blanc. Gorgeous carved wood and chinese silk interiors with a grand view of the lake and the jet d'eau. The lobster with szechuan sauce was extravagant, as were the 'délices', small balls of ice cream dipped into honey and sesame seeds and cooled in a bowl of ice at the table by the waspy-waisted waitress.

21 Jul 2005

Here we go again ...

... and it's because today was the first time I didn't think about riding the Tube when I rode the Tube. It may be nothing more than senseless pranks, but we're waiting to see if they shut the buses and Tube ...

Always on alert ... except for tomorrow, when I'll be on my way to Geneva.

Panic and uncoordinated drivers

One of the unreported, and potentially hazardous, consequences of the 7 July bombings was the rise of people on mopeds, motorcycles and bikes. There was a reported 400% surge in sales of the two-wheeled variety and a certain Keystone Cops quality to road traffic lately. Please, look both ways ...

18 Jul 2005

Chilling

Saturday afternoon, after a boozy lunch, we got caught up in the traffic from the removal of the London bus that was bombed. Carried on a flat bed truck and covered in a blue tarp, one could clearly see the outline of the destroyed section of the bus. Chilling.

14 Jul 2005

In memoriam

Europe observed a two minute silence at noon today in memory of those who died or were injured in last week's bombing. Hundreds of people poured out onto the Strand. Traffic stopped. People looked sincerely moved. It was a very emotional two minutes when London went quiet.

12 Jul 2005

It turns out I know two people who were on trains that exploded. They're ok, but obviously shaken.

Disturbingly, whenever I've been past the bombing sites there were 'Scientology ministers' in t-shirts passing out pamphlets. And at Edgware Road they seem to have propped flowers in front of all of the other (genuine) bouquets with L. Ron Hubbard quotations. What a sick and insensitive thing to do - plug your cult in the middle of this horror.

Next we'll have Tom Cruise telling those traumatised by the events to just jog it off.

11 Jul 2005

And other strange things ...


When leaving the Baker Street station, I saw this strange sight - a clocktower left standing while the building underneath was demolished. Precarious.

I figure I must have been on the train around 8.45 on Thursday morning. The only sign that something was wrong was the usual event of one of the lifts at Edgware Road being out of service. There are two different Edgware Road stations. One, to the south of the flyover holds the Circle and District lines. the one to the north holds the Bakerloo line - the line I take to get to work.

We were stopped after Marylebone station, but anyone who commutes on the Tube knows that stopping between stations is a common event on the aging and dilapidated rail lines. When the train was held at Baker Street we all groaned. And when we were told to leave the train I briefly thought to myself, 'and you idiots think this will get fixed for the Olympics?'. The station was evcuated very calmly. There was a power problem and the entire network would be shut down. Hundreds of people made their way up the stairs of the multi-level Baker Street tube. Up on the street, and safely out of the building, I rang into the office to tell people I was delayed. That was when i first heard of an explosion at Liverpool Street. I still didn't think anything about it. I would simply go home, make coffee, and get back into work when the network opened again. Ten minutes later when I got back to Edgware Road I realised something was wrong. There were police and ambulances everywhere. Edgware Road was closed off at Chapel Street. Emergency services swarmed Praed Street.

I went back to the flat and switched on the television. At the time we only knew there were explosions in the Tube, still claimed to be power surges. I had a feeling it was more than that. Minutes later, a bus blew up at Tavistock Square and it was clear that London was being bombed.

Four bombs, more explosions, uncertainty and fear and an eerie calm.

It was then that I first learned of the bombing at Edgware Road. It was at the other station, and on a different train that I take, but still alarming that five minutes earlier I had left Edgware Road in an opposite direction. And it was then we first heard there were likely fatalities. I rang work again, to check that we had heard from everyone and sat and watched the BBC. All around me were the sounds of sirens and helicopters. A city under siege, and my flat somehow in the middle of it.

The sirens continued all day.

London has long been prepared for this. And it's not the first bombing since I moved here - a madman bombed Brixton, Brick Lane and Soho attempting to start race riots. And the IRA bombed the BBC and Blackfriars Bridge. After 9/11 London accepted that it was a likely target and we spent a few nights over pints wondering how it might happen - Parliament, Oxford Street, Canary Wharf, the Tube. We worried about poison gases, contaminated water and bombs. London raised its alert level, and messages to watch out for unattended bags became more frequent.

Unlike 9/11, there isn't a crystal clear, chilling repeatable video of the event. There is no equivalent of the plane flying into the second tower, there are only 'after' photos of the bus and grainy, choppy, ghostly mobile phone videos. We won't live with it in our visual memory, but in stories and feelings and glimpses. It won't cut deep into the psyche because London won't let it, and because it's image isn't sharp enough.

i always thought it would be safer to be near Edgware Road, home to a visible and sizable Muslim community. Surely, it wouldn't happen there. Now, we're not so sure. it's possible the train was meant to be at Paddington when it was bombed, but even so, one can't really ever be off their guard.

So, the next day, I got up early and took the Tube to work.

Life goes on - sad, cautious, and a bit weary - but on.