London, Going Forward

"I'm not going to avoid driving a car because of the vague possibility of an accident," Tom Coyle said. "So why should I keep away from here because a terrorist might attack my bus? The odds of both occurring are about the same."

Maybe so. With parts of the Underground network still closed, however, and uncertainty about whether terrorists will strike again, Londoners and visitors are divided over how to get around. "After the first attack, we figured, oh well, we can manage this," said Ellen Eckstein, a London real estate broker, in a Marylebone cafe. "But then when it happened the second time, we realized that there is no limit to the number of times lightning can strike. So, yes, we're avoiding the Tube and buses. We have to go on with our lives, but why put ourselves in harm's way if we don't need to?"

Harald Staden, visiting from Norway with his wife and two teenage children, agreed. While waiting in line at the half-price ticket booth in Leicester Square, Staden explained that they, too, would be avoiding the Underground and the buses. "If I were alone, I'd probably have zero qualms about public transit," he said. "But with kids? No way." Instead, he said the family designed their week in London so that every place they visited could be navigated on foot.

Wandering around town, you can take the measure of a town coming to grips with terrorism.

Low-Key Condolences

The Londoner -- early fifties, blond, in jeans -- walked from the Charing Cross station, through the Victoria Embankment park and down a path lined with lilies and roses. The American, dressed in a dark suit, had taken the same route a few minutes earlier. Strangers, they were headed to the same destination: a towering oak with flowers piled underneath. Across from the tree, in an elegant white tent, were about a dozen regal blue chairs and a table holding a leather-bound condolence book.

The London Memorial Garden, opened Juy 11, is the official shrine for the victims of the July 7 attacks. Makeshift mourning venues had sprung up spontaneously at the bombing sites, but British authorities have quietly swept those locations clean, not wanting them to become pilgrimage or vigil destinations. This spot, in contrast, is tucked down a little-used path, with only a couple of small signs directing the public to it. The guard standing sentry said a typical day draws no more than 20 visitors.

The two visitors on this day paused to look at the small pile under the tree: letters addressed to the victims and their families, bunches of flowers in cellophane wrappers, a few photographs. Finally they exchanged introductions. Adrienne Montes is an activist who was mobilizing a campaign to rid the African continent of land mines. Saul Peters is a writer from Los Angeles.

Peters noted the contrasting British and American approaches to grieving. Following the Sept. 11 attacks, he told Montes, the whole borough of Manhattan was covered with flowers, portraits and condolences -- one giant shrine -- and travelers had come from around the world to see Ground Zero.

Montes said that making this pilgrimage had been a transformational event. For 15 days after the July 7 terrorist attack, she had been unable to use the Underground or bus. Anywhere she went was by foot. Today, she had forced herself into the Chalk Farm station, near her home.

"It was one of the most dreadful tortures I have inflicted on myself," she said. "But I had to come here, to see this, sign that book. My karma willed it. Now I can go on."

Then they parted, strolling off to different corners of London.

Cross-Cultural Immersion

The encounter between the Muslim from Bangladesh and the Protestant American started on a sour note. Masur Said, 22, first spotted the stranger strolling along Edgware Road, a heavily Middle Eastern enclave between the Marylebone and Paddington neighborhoods. The carpenter was manning a table covered with pamphlets and other material about Islam. His face was round, his skin dark. He wore khakis, a plain T-shirt and a white crocheted skull cap.