I wrote yesterday’s post before I had seen the news of the London Bridge attack.
I don’t know why it makes a difference that I know that bit of London very well – it’s near The Globe, where I’ve been a lot, I love Borough Market despite its outrageously high prices: I go there to buy Mrs King’s Pork Pie for Brian Nellist whenever I can, and I’ve often got off the tube at London Bridge when visiting the offices of the Guys and St Thomas Charity Trust.
In Bethnall Green, on Saturday as I left the Ashoka offices and walked to Liverpool Street Station, it was sunny, the parks were full of people: toddlers, weight-lifting men, collapsed-on-the-grass-drunk men, women in shorts, in headscarves, in burkas, in bikinis, babies carefully placed in the shade, old people on benches, young men playing football, families having picnics, girls dancing. There was a joyful, sunny, civil mood: walking up Brick Lane I stopped for street food, the pavements thick with visitors from everywhere. East London on holiday and all the world there.
This is not a place to think about the human problem unfolding before our eyes. Only to be sorry.
Short post today as out early to catch a train to Sheffield top meet Reader colleagues who work in prisons and other justice settings.