A day in a daze

The terrorist attack yesterday left quite a lot of a Londoners in a disorientated state. Being autistic, I am pretty disorientated quite a lot of the time anyway and it feels as if the effect was exacerbated in my case. For what it's worth, here's the story of my journey into work.

I left my Hackney flat at the normal time and got on a bus to Bethnal Green to catch the Central Line tube. The tannoy announced that Liverpool Street and Bank stations were closed because of a "power failure" but I thought nothing of it and boarded the train. At St. Pauls, we were told that the entire underground system had now been closed and that we must evacuate the station, with rather more urgency than a mere power failure would seem to justify. Nevertheless, I dismissed this fact at the time and responded by cursing British public transport. I even started to worry whether an Olympics in London is a good idea.

To get to my workplace in West London, I needed to get as far as Marble Arch where I could catch the right bus. Had I still been in Hackney, I would have boarded a No. 30 (the one that was later blown up) but instead I had to find a way of getting there from St. Pauls.

I tried to get a bus as far as Oxford Circus but it was already full and the driver wasn't letting anybody on. I started walking towards the West End and noticed rather more police cars and fire engines than would be expected on a Thursday morning but, again, the penny failed to drop. Not thinking straight, I boarded a No.19 bus at Holborn, forgetting that it was about to turn into Charing Cross Road. I quickly got out and began to walk up Oxford Street. I then attempted to catch a bus all the way to Hammersmith but it also refused to stop.

At Oxford Circus, I caught a bus that was on its way to Edgware Road - another of the targets. At Marble Arch, the driver suddenly turned the bus around and started going back along Oxford Street. I had no idea what was happening and started shouting at the driver and demanding to be a let off. A fellow passenger tried to explain the situation to me but I had a bit of an autistic moment and wasn't really paying attention. I heard him say "five" and "Liverpool Street" and that's about all so I was none the wiser.

I was finally able to walk to Lancaster Gate and catch my two buses into work. When I arrived, an hour and a half late, I was searched by security on the way in. At last, I realised that something serious was happening and asked them to fill me in. In the office, I had access to the internet, and was finally able to get all the details, and realised that I had spent about an hour wandering through London, oblivious to the terrorist emergency that was going on around me.

I realise that my experience is hardly comparable to those of people who lost friends or relatives or those who witnessed the explosions. However, it was rather more unusual, and in its own way frightening, than my usual day so I thought that I would share it with you. I look forward to more mundane adventures from now on.