Last Thursday, London was tossed from jubilation to shock and despair in less than 24 hours. Riding on the crest of a wave of success, the city was celebrating news of its new role as host for the 2012 Olympics. The Red Arrows flew over London, leaving a trail or victorious red, white and blue across the sky. The previous weekend Live 8 had been a well-intentioned success and it was the week world leaders were gathering in Scotland for G8.

Apart from a few minor scuffles from G8 protestors in Edinburgh, Britain was languishing in a cloud of good feeling and optimism. The first inkling I had that anything was wrong, was when I received a call from my friend, Benn, at around 09:22.

Benn is a tube train driver and it's not unusual for him to call me in the morning to discuss movies, games and the upper echelons of philosophy. Last Thursday the first thing he asked was if I was okay, which struck me as a bit odd. He then asked me to check the news. There was no news on, just the usual morning television dross.

He explained that he'd been evacuated from Edgware Road Station, along with all staff and passengers and information wasn't reaching them there. A quick surf on BBC Online revealed that there had been a power surge, which had shut the entire London Tube network – nothing to worry about.

My interest had been piqued, but the real story didn't start filtering through until well after 10am. I managed to call Benn again at 10:20 to update him on the latest and after that the mobile networks were saturated, as people began to realise the magnitude of the event.

Of course I had the news on all day; working from home it was my only contact with what was going on. Emails filtered through from shocked friends in various parts of the country and the world, including the GiN team. The checklist of friends and family had been done.

UK games websites, Eurogamer.net and Computerandvideogames.com, shut down for the day. Theatre and music events were cancelled – London was closing down.

The initial dread turned to a dreamlike daze of what, I suppose, must have been disbelief. By four in the afternoon London's workers were slowly walking across the city to try and get home as the tube and bus networks were both closed and major over ground train stations were also closed. There was a quiet migration taking place.

I mean, this is what happens in the movies right!?. Spielberg's latest, War of the Worlds, must have tripped off the tongue many times that day, as people tried to equate the experience to a previous one.

It's like"What is it like?

It's like 9/11 or a scene from Dawn of the Dead. Televised news coverage and fictional disaster blockbusters are uttered in the same breath – part of a mental scrapbook of desensitised media experiences. We spend our evenings fending off alien invasions and trying to experience the "ultimate, immersive" war FPS. And when it really happens our only way to explain is "it's like that scene where" or "you know that bit when." Thankfully, for most of us, it's like nothing we've experienced before.

That evening, the British being British, we headed to the pub. About 16 of my friends flocked to our local for a pint or two. Stories and third-hand anecdotes were exchanged and strange experiences of the day were shared in a moment of catharsis. That moment over, we moved on to cheerier things. As expected, the pubs were full of friends coming together to savor and enjoy each other's company.

The next day, London had returned to relative, almost spooky normality. The tubes, trains and buses were running at pretty near to normal and people were going in to work. Understandably there were less people, but I guess that British Dunkirk spirit was in full effect as most Londoners defiantly went about their business.

Unfortunately, London has a history of crisis and violent attacks. One commentator suggested that as the grandchildren and great grandchildren of the people who lived through the Blitz, Londoners have an in-built resilience. The only difference is, then the underground tube stations were a refuge from the bombs. And today they are a potential weapon for terrorists. The IRA tried to shake up London through the seventies and eighties, but instead they just made us better equipped to take these bitter blows and carry on.

On Saturday morning I headed into central London to meet my brother for a day's shopping. Train stations are still being evacuated at a moment's notice, as abandoned bags or suspicious packages were found, but we are already taking these inconveniences in our stride.

The over ground train seemed perhaps a little emptier than a usual Saturday morning, but I couldn't be sure. On arriving at Waterloo station, the first sign of a London on heightened security alert was the reassuring fluorescent yellow jackets of the police. Next were the constant announcements urging passengers to keep their bags and belongings with them at all times. These replaced the tourist's favourite "mind the gap" announcements usually associated with the London tube.

Never mind the gap these days – that's the least of your worries.

My first journey on the tube since the disaster did give me a slight wave of trepidation. Just the slightest whiff of nervousness. And I could soon see that my fellow passengers felt the same.

As I walked on the tube train I did a quick visual sweep of the carriage before I'd even consciously thought about it. The favor was returned by the other people on the train. Every time another person came on the carriage, the majority of people had a quick glance to see the new arrival and gauge their terrorist bomber potential.

Of course I'd selected the carriage I thought might be the least likely to contain a bomb. How I decided this, I have no idea, but it was a conscious decision and one which sat strangely with me.

Saturday at Covent Garden was not the usual hellish swarm considering it was a lovely sunny summer day. People had definitely stayed away and I guess London was a little subdued.

It's a strange thing when somebody rocks your city to its very foundations like that. It's even stranger and heartening when the city picks itself up, dusts itself off and carries on teeming and growing; drawing new lives to it.

One week on we must take a moment to think about those who have died leaving behind friends, family and loved ones. We must also pay tribute to the emergency staff and ordinary people who acted so swiftly on that day. Think of the forensic team who are still working in dark, hot tunnels meters below the city to identify the remaining bodies of those who have perished, gathering evidence to bring the bombers to justice.

And finally, to the tube train staff and bus drivers who initially rescued passengers until the emergency services came on the scene. They then stepped back into their cabs the very next day and kept this great city moving – the very backbone of London's resilience and refusal to be beaten.

Head online to www.werenotafraid.com. Started by a British graphic designer after Thursday's incident, it has now become a phenomenon where people from all over the world are expressing their defiance through images. They say more than I ever could.