Respect

One thing that I have always felt the English do well is respect - be it for their traditions, their culture, but particularly when it comes to 'their own'. (In terms of general respect for others, it is a mixed bag - people will stand for their elders on a bus, and then promptly push you out of their way on the way to the tube.)

I remember making that observation a few times back home watching English football crowds observe a minutes silence immaculately. The fact that they might proceed to bait and beat lumps out of each other for the following couple of hours only makes their earlier display of dignity all the more remarkable.

I had a first hand demonstation of London playing the strong, silent type this morning.

I am in Paul Street today, so I went down to the Northern Line. This was the first time I had been through Kings Cross Station since Thursday. The announcement came that the train would not stop at that station, but it pretty much came to a stop without the doors opening.

Silence, no shuffling of feet, no jockeying for position, peoples eyes drifted from their papers to just look down. It wasn't a sinister sort of silence - just reflective. I have found some of the hammy 'we shall not surrender' statements a bit stylised over the past few days.

But on the ground and on the tube there is a real pragmatism about things, but no danger of those that suffered being forgotten.