Twenty years ago, I was walking through central London with my history teacher when a bus exploded behind us. We were in London for an awards ceremony at Westminster where I was to pick up the award for best opposition speaker in the Youth Parliament competition.
We had arrived at Euston station and all local transport had been cancelled. At this point, we heard that there’d been a bomb scare.
We bought a map at the station and set off to walk to Westminster when the number 30 bus exploded on Tavistock Square. It was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. People were running and screaming. We ran too and took shelter in a nearby park.