after the storm

While I enjoyed a calm and safe night last night, other parts of London stood in high flames. Croydon – halfway down to Gatwick airport – was burning and so was Hackney, up in the northeast of town. The looting continued, the violence spread, the police were helpless. In most instances, things quieted down only when the yobs got tired or their urge to try out that freshly looted TV became irresistible.

This afternoon, the question buzzing around the lab was whether the riots would continue, possibly even get worse, or abate. The good news was that the police presence had been increased three-fold in the city (though water cannons were not deployed). On the other hand, College had sent an ominous email late in the day warning of "violent outbreaks" and encouraging staff to work from home or adjust their travel times for the sake of their safety. I walked home as always, when I was done with work.

I didn't go home directly, though. Through the old-stone-cross storage yard called Old Brompton Cemetery I made my way to Fulham Broadway, the hub of my neighborhood, to see if any evidence of last night's unrest remained. Word on the street had it that the local Footlocker had been the target of looters but had withstood their assault. But whatever might have happened the night before (not much had), business was back to normal as I passed by. Union Market was selling pricey quality food, as much for the eye as for the palate, the pub next door was drawing beer as always, and hordes of commuters spilled from the tube station in short intervals.

I was a bit surprised. Earlier on my walk, I had stopped by the big Sainsbury's on Cromwell Road to pick up some cider for dinner and some veggies for a stew. The access to the parking lot was blocked with half-hearted barriers. I squeezed through and saw a gaggle of willing shoppers in front of automatic doors that remained persistently shut, no matter how many people jumped up and down in front of the motion sensors. "Due to the incidents that have taken place across London over the past few days, we have taken the decision to close this store early. [...] we apologise for the inconvenience", read a notice pasted against the glass from the inside.

In light of the location of the store – very close to the poshness of South Kensington and distant from rough estates – I saw this as excessive. Maybe the store manager, an honest man, wanted to impress his mom by saying that his store was also affected by the riots. But maybe the dark clouds of doom were ready to settle over London again, never mind the bright summer day that was coming to an end.

From Fulham Broadway I walked up North End Road, and here the mood shifted slightly. People were walking down the sidewalk as they always do, relaxed and without undue hurry, but there was almost no commercial activity. The Footlocker had its shutters drawn. Costa warned its customers that it would close at 4 today – more than three hours ago. There was no one at McDonald's and many of the Arabic grocery stores whose prime selling point is long opening hours were closed. Only Chicken Cottage was still serving customers.

Gerard, the proprietor of a busy internet café, stood next to the entrance, key in hand. Behind him were boxes piled high, the cell phone accessories, batteries, cables and memory cards that were normally pinned against the wall behind the counter safely stowed away. "I'm not leaving anything here tonight", he said by way of greeting me. "The violence is coming closer. On the other side of Fulham, shops are burning already. I'm closing up as soon as these guys" – he pointed at three figures behind screens – "are finished. It will get ugly."

I went up to my flat and cooked dinner. Then I ate it. It was quiet outside. I hadn't heard a single siren dopplering by my window. When I had finished, I pulled up the sash and peered outside. An eerie silence hung over the street. There were fewer people out than yesterday, not many pedestrians and no kids on bicycles or in groups. Two cops stood next to The Goose with nothing to do. A solitary helicopter circled above in increasing confusion. And fortunately it was thus all over London. The riots had stopped as suddenly as they had erupted. Peace has returned.