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Prising the Greatest City on Earth from my Cold Dead Hands

Well, this post title was supposed to be used for my huge farewell love letter to London. It was going to contain all my sadness and reluctance to leave, all the things I love about London, all the things that I hated about London.

At 8.52 this morning I got off what must have been the last tube running into the city, three minutes after four explosions threw limbs across Underground lines and London streets. I spent the day reading the newswires in a deserted and siren-haunted city that is still dazed and paralyzed by terrorist attacks. The black horror of this coming after the euphoria in the streets of London winning the Olympics is almost too much to encompass.

I am just thankful someone did not have to pick my cold, dead hands off the ground in London today.

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