The Long Way Home...

I knew things were serious when I rounded the corner and headed east along Fleet Street, only to be stopped by a policeman armed with chequered tape and a stern look on his face. I'd left the office earlier, when the second car bomb was discovered, but only made it as far as the Blue Anchor. My 'fleeing' work colleagues insisted on buying me a birthday drink.

My plan was to walk to London Bridge and get the first train heading south, but after and hour and ten minutes I'd only reached the first set of traffic lights around the corner from the office. Faced with a cordain of chequered blue and white tape, I was going to have to find a creative route to London Bridge - or head back to the pub. I stood there for a few moments to consider my options and decided it would be best to arrive home late....not late and pissed.

I opted for the path of least resistance and weaved my way through Middle Temple and joined a long queue of corporate refugees - who appear to have all had the same idea - trudging along the River Thames. With wailing sirens fading in the background, I crossed at Vauxhall Bridge and made my way through the narrow little lanes in Southwark until I finally reached the railway station.

With the current alert status in London classified as 'Severe', the 20 minute trek to London Bridge might end up being my regular way home...