EXecrable

I had some meetings in London and then hopped on a train to Exeter for a family funeral tomorrow. Walking across Waterloo bridge it was impossible not to think of the attacks that London has suffered in recent weeks, and I was craning my neck to the west in case the blackened hulk of Grenfell was visible in the distance. It wasn't; London is big. The polarisation of society that events like these rams home causes me real concern. I am desperately cynical about right-wing political manoeuvring that leads to the minority extreme reactions that I cannot bear in my fellow countrypeople: residents of luxury tower blocks on the radio aghast that fire survivors would be housed there because they haven't earned the £15,000 it costs in annual service charges; the ripping off of an innocent woman's veil because an attack perpetrator was Muslim; those who react moderately to incidents of extremism and who search for reasons being criticised as terrorist sympathisers.

These incidents are not the norm but as we're all on a sliding scale of political beliefs and apathy/engagement, the number of people who would condone these actions through remaining quiet, would be high. You only have to read one internet comments stream to realise that.

The West Country is far. It especially feels that way on a hot day with broken train aircon, windows that won't open, overcrowding and delays. Being hot is uncomfortable but not unpleasant to me. Paying 50 quid for the privilege is less than ideal.

The rolling green countryside soothed me and names of towns became familiar the closer to East Devon we moved. My Dad is from Honiton and we spent a lot of time here as children. I found some cheap digs in Exeter where snores and vocal cords reverberated through the thin walls. But the balmy evening temperatures and the sound of gulls were pleasant. I was reminded how far Cambridge is from the sea as I can't remember the last time I saw the British coastline (from the ground).