London, my London

I have two, what I jokingly call, spiritual homes in the UK. One is Wales, land of my fathers (actually my mother) and home now to all of my immediate family.

The other is London. I was born in Hillingdon to the north-west of the capital, and raised in Ruislip, near the end of the Metropolitan Line. I studied at the London School of Economics, and have lived in Blackheath and Lewisham in SE London, where two of my three children were born. Yes, we have now moved out of the city to Tunbridge Wells in Kent, but still think of London as home – as it has been for long periods overseas: in Israel and Kenya, Ghana and Washington DC, and now in Canberra, Australia.

Throughout all these years of moving and getting older and having a family, London has remained a constant. From childhood days, when I used to catch the tube up to town with my Mum and Dad to feed the pigeons in Trafalgar Square, and try to avoid the smoking carriages on the Underground! Through my years at LSE and early days in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, within touching distance of Big Ben. To my whole FCO career based in and around King Charles Street, dashing between government buildings and Parliament itself, loving that feeling of being in the heart of the best city in the world.

Last summer, I was making just one more of those return trips, and stood on Westminster Bridge gaping with fresh awe at the changing landscape of London. I posted the photo at the top of this page on Twitter, with the London Eye and Old Father Thames before me as the sun set. It clearly hit a chord with many people, as it was liked and retweeted by hundreds. I realised then that the Bridge and the view had touched so many over different generations, and that my love of this part of town was shared by Londoners, by tourists, by people from all over the world.

Fast forward to Thursday morning, when I woke up in Canberra to the awful news of the terrorist attack in London. I stayed calm, absorbed all the news, spoke to the team, got to the office, checked in with friends at home, chaired a meeting, discussed what it would mean for us that day. Then I turned on the TV. And at that moment the impact hit me.

This was London, my London. There was Big Ben, there was Westminster Bridge, there was our own Foreign Office Minister, Tobias Ellwood, trying to save PC Keith Palmer. There were the red buses and the black taxis and the Thames itself.  For the first time, the news sank in and we all, in my team, had a moment of shock and grief.

Then we got back to business and did what needed to be done. I went to Parliament, met Speaker Tony Smith, and sat and listened to wonderful, moving speeches from Australia’s Prime Minister
and the Leader of the Opposition. MPs approached me to offer personal support, with many touching stories of their own connections to London and the UK. And from Parliament, the sympathy seemed to reverberate outwards, as we received phone calls, letters and flowers from people sending condolences. The Brisbane Story Bridge was lit up in red, white and blue. Thank you, Australia, for your fantastic support.

I travelled to Melbourne that evening, after deciding to go ahead with events already planned to celebrate innovation in the UK, as part of the F1 weekend activities. This seems the best thing to do – to keep calm and carry on; and not be deterred from our usual rhythm. In a way it’s our best answer to terrorism – a metaphorical two fingers up to the extremists to show that life goes on and we will win in this battle for values – for freedom, for liberty, for tolerance – as we have many times before in our history.

I know that my fellow Londoners will be doing the same, in circumstances far more difficult than my own, but with the same spirit of defiance, resilience and optimism.

A book of condolence for those who lost their lives in the terrorist attack in London on Wednesday 22 March 2017 will be open at the British High Commission in Commonwealth Avenue, Yarralumla, ACT on Monday 27 and Tuesday 28 March, from 10.30 a.m. to 1.30 p.m.