A DAY TRIP TO LONDON?
Posted: Tue 15 Oct, 2002 9:36 pm
A DAY TRIP TO LONDON
"What a difference a few years makes?"
My wife and I set off for London at 6.50am last Wednesday for a rare journey by rail that would take us into the heartland of our capital city, LONDON.
Due to her concerns over her safety I had decided to go along to see how much had changed.
Leaving my local railway station I recalled my thoughts of a similar journey I had made almost 20 years ago as an ambitious Royal Marine recruit. On that occasion I was far more naïve and patriotic to the country I had grown up in.
Standing on the platform the commuters around me looked no different other than the fashions had changed. Nobody seemed happy and were all to busy contemplating, "THE JOURNEY" and getting a seat.
Climbing aboard the train (which was on time) and taking my seat I noticed the brightly-lit display outlining the stops we would be making on our journey into London. My wife looked at me and smiled for the last time that day.
Travelling passed each town, St Neots, Biggleswade, Hitchin etc etc I watched the changing scenery in the atmosphere of a Doctors surgery.
Houses, Industrial estates, rubbish, dumped and burnt out cars, rubbish, Derelict buildings, rubbish, Graffiti on every concrete structure and yet………………………………….. more rubbish.
Why? Because nobody cares or has any personal pride and somebody else will pick it up?
Arriving at Finsbury Park we quickly jumped onto the connecting tube train, which was packed to the limits.
I felt so different in these circumstances due to my PTSD and hyper awareness to those around me.
Quickly arriving at Highbury Islington the collars and suits of the city workers began to vanish, being replaced by less desirable characters in the way that they were dressed. Emaciated and scraggily dressed white men, black men with hoods up, hats on so that there true appearance was masked, Asians and eastern Europeans dressed in tatty jeans and scruffy black leather jackets.
The smile and comfort zone around my wife had vanished. I had lost mine years ago.
I subconsciously moved my phone and wallet to my front pocket and held my wife's hand so I had a grip on her bag.
Why? We all know because it’s the victims that suffer not the offenders in our crazy country.
We then took a train to Hackney central. Nobody spoke on the journey but everyone seemed to be sizing each other up. I felt like I was waiting for somebody to act or commit the next crime on the next carefully selected target. We were potentially one of those targets as we went about our daily business.
On our arrival at Hackney we walked through the litter strewn streets just before the main rush hour had begun.
The studio apartment we were meeting at was a little oasis, behind a steal gate, two intercom systems and two heavily locked doors. I already had my ideas on what the area was like?
Why? Crime doesn't pay?
Leaving my wife in her meeting I made my way over to Liverpool Street Station to meet a lawyer friend whom had helped me with my book.
Waiting at the Station outside a McDonalds I noticed a scruffy beggar with a stereotypical dog with him. As I sat and watched he approached everyone wearing a suit and appeared to ask for money for a cup of tea. The majority of people handed him some change in the hope he would disappear due to his intimidating appearance.
He never came over to me?
Why? Drugs, Homelessness, no self esteem, unemployment or a society that couldn’t give a damn.
After meeting up with my ex Marine/Lawyer friend and having put the worlds to right I made my way back to Hackney where my wife was waiting for our return leg home.
The streets of London were now a flush with people and when we reached Hackney central I felt like a foreigner. It was the same feelings I had experienced as a young Marine in the African port of Djibouti. Black men stood around us in the small station foyer. As I quickly asked the ticket officer where to go I noticed a stunned silence in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I was hyper vigilant and ready to act?
The ticket officer said, "two".
I understood this to mean platform two.
We walked over the footbridge where I became aware of three men following us. I immediately stopped and turned to look at them and let them walk pass and get in front of me. As they passed I noticed a stale smell and that they didn't speak English.
I really did feel like a foreigner.
Why? Because we have no border controls and a welfare system that encourages people to come here and sponge! Terrorists can have a field day? Human rights? Whose human rights? Not victims of Crime that is for sure!
The platform was covered in people who quite obviously had no work in them what so ever.
As for a ticket? Don’t be silly?
It was at this point my wife turned to me and said, "God lets get home because I don’t feel Safe".
I hadn't felt safe all morning?
Why? Only Politicians can answer that because it hasn’t happened over night?
By now everyone seemed to be staring at us, looking us up and down.
What have you got? What are you wearing? What are you carrying?
We lived on a knife edge all the back way to Finsbury Park subconsciously waiting to be another crime statistic.
Fortunately because of our awareness and my street experience we made it to our last train.
Sitting in our seat I thought, "London".
Posh cars, over paid stars, houses and apartments, 3rd world conditions.
No thankyou
Perhaps I will go and live in France?
Why? Not enough tough decisions!
"What a difference a few years makes?"
My wife and I set off for London at 6.50am last Wednesday for a rare journey by rail that would take us into the heartland of our capital city, LONDON.
Due to her concerns over her safety I had decided to go along to see how much had changed.
Leaving my local railway station I recalled my thoughts of a similar journey I had made almost 20 years ago as an ambitious Royal Marine recruit. On that occasion I was far more naïve and patriotic to the country I had grown up in.
Standing on the platform the commuters around me looked no different other than the fashions had changed. Nobody seemed happy and were all to busy contemplating, "THE JOURNEY" and getting a seat.
Climbing aboard the train (which was on time) and taking my seat I noticed the brightly-lit display outlining the stops we would be making on our journey into London. My wife looked at me and smiled for the last time that day.
Travelling passed each town, St Neots, Biggleswade, Hitchin etc etc I watched the changing scenery in the atmosphere of a Doctors surgery.
Houses, Industrial estates, rubbish, dumped and burnt out cars, rubbish, Derelict buildings, rubbish, Graffiti on every concrete structure and yet………………………………….. more rubbish.
Why? Because nobody cares or has any personal pride and somebody else will pick it up?
Arriving at Finsbury Park we quickly jumped onto the connecting tube train, which was packed to the limits.
I felt so different in these circumstances due to my PTSD and hyper awareness to those around me.
Quickly arriving at Highbury Islington the collars and suits of the city workers began to vanish, being replaced by less desirable characters in the way that they were dressed. Emaciated and scraggily dressed white men, black men with hoods up, hats on so that there true appearance was masked, Asians and eastern Europeans dressed in tatty jeans and scruffy black leather jackets.
The smile and comfort zone around my wife had vanished. I had lost mine years ago.
I subconsciously moved my phone and wallet to my front pocket and held my wife's hand so I had a grip on her bag.
Why? We all know because it’s the victims that suffer not the offenders in our crazy country.
We then took a train to Hackney central. Nobody spoke on the journey but everyone seemed to be sizing each other up. I felt like I was waiting for somebody to act or commit the next crime on the next carefully selected target. We were potentially one of those targets as we went about our daily business.
On our arrival at Hackney we walked through the litter strewn streets just before the main rush hour had begun.
The studio apartment we were meeting at was a little oasis, behind a steal gate, two intercom systems and two heavily locked doors. I already had my ideas on what the area was like?
Why? Crime doesn't pay?
Leaving my wife in her meeting I made my way over to Liverpool Street Station to meet a lawyer friend whom had helped me with my book.
Waiting at the Station outside a McDonalds I noticed a scruffy beggar with a stereotypical dog with him. As I sat and watched he approached everyone wearing a suit and appeared to ask for money for a cup of tea. The majority of people handed him some change in the hope he would disappear due to his intimidating appearance.
He never came over to me?
Why? Drugs, Homelessness, no self esteem, unemployment or a society that couldn’t give a damn.
After meeting up with my ex Marine/Lawyer friend and having put the worlds to right I made my way back to Hackney where my wife was waiting for our return leg home.
The streets of London were now a flush with people and when we reached Hackney central I felt like a foreigner. It was the same feelings I had experienced as a young Marine in the African port of Djibouti. Black men stood around us in the small station foyer. As I quickly asked the ticket officer where to go I noticed a stunned silence in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I was hyper vigilant and ready to act?
The ticket officer said, "two".
I understood this to mean platform two.
We walked over the footbridge where I became aware of three men following us. I immediately stopped and turned to look at them and let them walk pass and get in front of me. As they passed I noticed a stale smell and that they didn't speak English.
I really did feel like a foreigner.
Why? Because we have no border controls and a welfare system that encourages people to come here and sponge! Terrorists can have a field day? Human rights? Whose human rights? Not victims of Crime that is for sure!
The platform was covered in people who quite obviously had no work in them what so ever.
As for a ticket? Don’t be silly?
It was at this point my wife turned to me and said, "God lets get home because I don’t feel Safe".
I hadn't felt safe all morning?
Why? Only Politicians can answer that because it hasn’t happened over night?
By now everyone seemed to be staring at us, looking us up and down.
What have you got? What are you wearing? What are you carrying?
We lived on a knife edge all the back way to Finsbury Park subconsciously waiting to be another crime statistic.
Fortunately because of our awareness and my street experience we made it to our last train.
Sitting in our seat I thought, "London".
Posh cars, over paid stars, houses and apartments, 3rd world conditions.
No thankyou
Perhaps I will go and live in France?
Why? Not enough tough decisions!