Well, at least it wasn't on until evening, which gave me time to print the ticket & barcode, and find out where it was. O yes, it was fun getting directions. Tube to Monument - fair enough. Then you have to walk through the City. I actually love that - it's the oldest part of London, and the back streets are narrow and winding. The architecture can be spectacular, and there's a sense of power and authority about the place. And it'd be easy enough to make your way, if you were familiar with it!
Unfortunately, I don't get out that way very often, so I was dependant on Google Maps. I saved a snapshot of their walking directions to the address..
O Lordy. Mind you, it was encouraging that all of this was only supposed to take seven minutes, so having studied directions and map carefully, off I went - bravely. My first snag was that there was a match in Stamford Bridge this evening, so the Tube was crammed with fans returning home. Never mind - I managed to squeeze on, the pressure eased at the next stop - Earls Court - with many people taking the Piccadilly Line, and I got a seat two stops after that. Which is good, because the Tube trip took about 35-40 minutes (so much for Google Maps' estimate that the whole trip (including walk) would take me 36!).
Off I hopped at Monument, and headed for the exits. There are several, but so much for taking Exit 5 - they're not numbered! I do think they might be thinking of Bank Station, which has numbered exits and is connected to Monument by subterranean passageway. Never mind - I had carefully studied where exactly I had to go, and figured out that, far from just exiting the station and finding Nicholas Lane, I had to go a ways up King William Street. Well now, it also transpires that that's the surface route to Bank Station - so the best thing to do is follow the signs for "Bank" as you leave Monument Station.
So I did, and in short order came upon Nicholas Lane, leading away to my right. And off I went. As for all those rights and lefts - well, it transpires, as I saw from the actual map on Google Maps, that all those streets basically lead the same way - they just don't quite match up to become a single street, unfortunately. But hey, that's what makes it interesting! The only real zigzag you do is on Threadneedle Street, where there is no straight-ahead option, so you head left, then sharp right around the corner onto Old Broad Street. Throgmorton Street is the next left. In the end, I was very chuffed with how easily I found it!
Next problem was finding the venue, which was listed as 27c Throgmorton Street. I found No 27, which has several floors, each with its own bell. In the dark, I couldn't seem to see any name like what I'd come looking for. Now, I had - bravely or foolishly - not eaten yet, so I meandered off down the road towards a lighted building. Ehh - this had the poster on it for what I was to see. I couldn't see the building number, but then I noticed that the building next door had the address "27d". Strange numbering system..
Anyhoo, doors weren't to open until 7.45, and it was fully two hours before that now! On my way there, I had passed few eateries, and such as I had seen were closed - the City is pretty dead at weekends. So I meandered on. I was pretty unhopeful of getting somewhere to eat, but I did come across some interesting sights..
Mansion House
Royal Exchange
And was I ever delighted to come across yet another bear!
I see they also have a bus trail..
Well, this was all well and good, but I was beginning to feel faint from hunger. Also, it was bitterly cold, and I still had a long wait. Vainly, I started up Moorgate, my hopes raised by a lit Starbucks sign. Anywhere that would serve me hot food, or a hot drink, and let me in from the cold was fine by me now. Of course, it was closed. I continued in that direction though, and shortly came across a Mexican restaurant on the other side of the road. Which was open!!
Unfortunately, I don't much like Mexican. Anyway, beggars not being choosers and such, I was perusing the menu when the manager spotted me and invited me in. I hesitated a second, then figured this was likely the only eatery open for who knew how far in any direction. Oh, except one place I'd passed on my travels, which looked the sort of place I wouldn't care to eat in. Even if they let me in.
She led me to a table in the bar - downstairs, away from the cold door. Sensible. I was the only customer, although a number had left just as I arrived. The barman was to serve me. I chose beef mini quesadillas, and a steak - which seemed the most innocuous option. He asked me whether I wanted the quesadillas spicy, and when I said no, he made sure that the dipping sauce I got with my nachos was similarly bland. Actually, it was more watery than anything else (and I hate nachos!). The quesadillas were fine, the steak was pretty poor - but at least the fries I got with it were very good. And I was in from the cold! Still though, nothing here to change my opinion of Mexican.
I was debating whether to have a dessert - honestly, I didn't feel like it, but would have, to pass the time. So I didn't appreciate it when, seeing that I wanted his attention, he automatically brought the bill. Well, that was my mind made up then, and off I went. It was only 7.35 when I got back to the venue, but I was delighted to see they were already letting people in.
The ground floor was bedlam. The building, as I'd read, used to be a posh restaurant, but went bust and was abandoned. Well, right now the ground floor is a bar, and an 80s party was in full swing. Y'know, our company Christmas party next Thursday has the same theme, and Helen was talking about getting an inflatable mobile phone - a gigantic, brick-type one. At this party, they had the downmarket version: cardboard. Meantime, I was running the gauntlet of a pair of comedians - literally - on the front desk, who were trying out various routines on me as we shouted to hear each other above the din. They asked whether I was there for the "meeting". They found my name on the list, and I got yet another mark on my hand - scribbled in marker this time, and damned if I can read it..
So I was in. I'd have had no idea where to go next if not for a pair in front of me, headed in the same direction. So I followed them, through the door to the right and down the spiral stairs. Quite grand in its heyday, I imagine - gold mosaic on the walls and an old, ornate lift down the middle. Toilets and "backstage" were located on the first level down. "Backstage" was no entry, so I was unsure what to do next, and dithered until some other people happened along - the auditorium, such as it is, is on the basement level, next floor down again. The very bottom.
The ceiling plaster is peeling and the pipes exposed. Seating was on folding chairs, and there was a makeshift bar at the back, where I got a (plastic) glass of wine before choosing an aisle seat, near the front. I'd worried how cold it might be, but it was warm enough that I took off my coat - mind you, I started to feel the chill near the end. A screen at the side showed 80s Christmas ads - I remembered a couple!
After a delay of just over 10 minutes, the panto proper started. With mermaids, as you do. The plot - for there is one - scapegoats poor old John Lewis for making an ad, which they show on screen, advertising fridge freezers by showing them as attractive to a mermaid, who's trying to replicate the scene she sees in a snow globe. The mermaid king of Atlantis is disturbed by the problem of humans stealing from the sea people, and his feminist daughter goes to the human world to persuade them to stop it. Her shallow sister, Sharon, who speaks throughout in an almost unintelligible posh accent, tags along to prove she's not that shallow. And the goodie is an Australian lobster, who apologises because his accent is more "Kiwi".
There's quite a parade of aquatic creatures, with costumes made from cardboard. The only shop-bought costume, as they pointed out, was the Santa suit. I got a hug from Santa. :-) And the whole thing was as anarchic a load of, well, silliness as you'd expect. Loadsa fun. Karaoke at the interval, and more silliness after. Highlight for me was the "Dorito fish", with a cardboard headpiece to which were attached four packets of Doritos. He was the epitome of ridiculousness, as the court jester at Atlantis. Very Far Side, in fact. I roared laughing at that one. And there was a Return of the Jedi reference. All good fun, and all in aid of Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital. Although, with the ticket price already going to the charity, it always annoys me when they have collectors at the event as well.
It ran over, predictably, and when I got outside I actually found it difficult to breathe, it was so cold. I hurried home. Tomorrow night's event, thankfully, is a lot closer - I'm going to see John Cleese promote his new book in Cadogan Hall. Monday is Erasure, in the Forum. Still no takers for the ShowFilmFirst tickets I won to The Woman in Black: Angel of Death, for the same night. I swear, you can't give things away! Tuesday, I'm back in the City, at Temple Church, for a performance by Polyphony as part of the Temple Winter Festival. Beforehand, I hope to snatch one drink at another colleague's leaving do! On Wednesday, I'm off on a walk to see the Christmas lights - must wrap up well! And on Thursday, it's the aforementioned party, at the Conservatory at Painshill. So, lots to cram in before I fly back to Ireland for Christmas on Friday. Only definite thing over the break is Christmas dinner at the Oakwood Arms..
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