From the quiet, tranquil location of a sand and shingle beach in Halkidiki, Greece, stories started to limp around that something had happened in America. There had been an accident. A plane had crashed into the World Trade Centre, New York City. Pausing for a second, we thought “how sad”, but selfishly gave it no more thought. Later, in the quiet bar, sipping on a cocktail, Sky News flashed into our lives the reality of the situation. Our jaws dropped, laughter stopped, chatting ceased. Eyes welled with tears. People stared around blankly. We were injected with disbelief while someone covered the world in a blanket of sadness. The images we saw that day remain, 11 months on, at the forefront of our minds. You would think, wouldn’t you, that if something like that happened, the whole world would stop turning. Well I think it did, at least for a second, to mourn the people who lost their lives as heroes, and to gasp at the evil man can do to his fellow man.