Play: Silent & tourist weekend!

Yes, I know I've been quiet.. yes, I'm still alive! and blogging. Belatedly. Y'see, I had visitors, who just left today, and only now am I getting the chance to tell you all abt it!

So - we were up to last Thursday, when I went to see a play called Silent, in the Soho Theatre, with London For Less! Meetup group (who've now changed their name to Let's Do London - For Less). Yes, indeed. Anyway, I booked myself a ticket and met them there. And for once, I was on time! both for this group, with which I haven't had such a good record lately - and for the theatre, which is the single hardest for me to get to on time. Much better since I started continuing to Leicester Square, so I don't have to trek through the crowds on Shaftesbury Avenue.

Well now, the organiser of this group is never hard to find. He's the one with the baseball cap. And he was sat just inside the door of the ground floor bar, with a crowd of people. So I got myself a drink and joined them. Met one other person I knew, met some people for the first time, and had a good chat until it was time to go upstairs. And oh! such luxury, not to have to rush - I'm so used to galloping up those stairs after some kind soul at the box office has radioed upstairs for them to keep the door open. Still a lot of stairs, but quite manageable if you're not trying to run.

The venue was only about half full, and we were asked to sit in the centre section. I sat near the back, with my companion who was suspicious of sitting in the front row. She was right, as it transpired.. this is a one-man show, and highly interactive. I have seen audience members subjected to worse, but be warned if you are averse to being part of the performance.

The show itself is award-winning, and features an Irishman - whom I'm sure I recognise from a similarly interactive show, years ago - whose story is that he's originally from Cobh, now living in Dublin, and homeless. So far, so depressing, right? Nope - this is one of the funniest things I've been to in a while. It's a disturbing concept for a show: spend 90 minutes (without interval - that would spoil the mood) in the company of one of those homeless men you probably avoid on the street.

Well, it's 90 minutes well spent. He's a natural raconteur, and effortlessly spins us from laughter to sympathy. I wasn't the only one to shed a tear. And his comic turns are hilarious. Not to mention his take on characters we all recognise - the people who pass him on the street, the psychiatrist who utterly failed to empathise with his mental condition. Oh, and that risible ad by the HSE - "Look after yourself. Look after your mental health." Best of all are his takes on Corkonians. Oh goodness me, but he knows the type - the snide, middle-class Cork lady who cares more about what the neighbours will think than ever she does about her sons.

Speaking of which, most of my group were a little baffled by the language. :-) Perhaps this show should come with an explanatory booklet, like The Commitments did when it was first released abroad. References to "langer" and Haulbowline (the naval base in Cork) went right over their heads. Theirs maybe, but not over the heads of the Irish people in the audience - of whom there were a disproportionately high number. I know, because he proceeded to chat to them, and they chatted back. Indeed, when he started to sing a song, the whole audience joined in - which just cracked him up.

We had laughter, we had song, we had dance. He gave a human face to homelessness. I can see why it won awards. Sadly, this wasn't true of everyone in the audience - one person walked out in high dudgeon. He was quick with comebacks, though - which was unfortunate for the first person to leave, who was actually from our group and developed a cough, apparently. Better that, though, than the couple at the back who decided that the best way to express their discontent would be to complain under their breaths for the entire performance, thus intruding on the person sitting next to them. Really people, leave or shut it! Anyway, for my part, I joined the standing ovation at the end. Runs until Saturday, and I can highly recommend it.

Afterwards, we had a delightfully late night in the bar (we few hardcore members). I'm quite sure our fearless leader would have taken it to an all-nighter, as he apparently had the night before, but he just didn't get the support. And so we eventually made it to bed.

I took Friday off, to go and meet my friends, who'd flown into Stansted and taken the train to Liverpool Street, as the more comfortable option. We had planned to lunch in an Italian there, but it turned out to be under refurbishment, so we hit Wetherspoon's instead. We were lucky to get a table that had just been vacated, and had a very pleasant lunch, before heading to their hotel - the same as last time, and which they describe as very good value - quiet, old-fashioned décor, friendly, attentive staff, a great breakfast, and a good location.

And then we hit.. Primark. Well, one of us did, because she's a fan. We others decamped to the nearest pub - the City of Quebec, down an alley across the road. Reading the reviews now, I see it's a gay bar - it's also right off Oxford Street, so attracts some weary shoppers. And persons such as ourselves, who could be described as weary waiting-for-shoppers. The place was dark, dingy, and reeking.. there was no way we were drinking inside, so it's lucky one of the outside tables became free and we sat out there. Service was friendly, though. Still, I can't recommend it - unless you're seriously desperate.

When our companion was finished shopping (surprisingly early), we headed for food. On our way back to the hotel, we came across an unassuming Italian - Il Posto - and managed to get a table there after a short wait. Now, this I can recommend. The food was as authentically Italian as the staff, and there was a great atmosphere! I'm glad we cleaned our plates - I got the impression the waiter would've told us off if we hadn't.. excellent find, and if and when they're back, I'm sure we'll be eating there again!

Afterwards, we just had time to dump the bags and freshen up, briefly, before heading out again. I went on a walk with Walk About London some months back, called South Bank by Night, which I thought perfect for them - and when I found out another was scheduled for the very night they arrived, well I immediately booked the three of us on it. With the meeting point at the south end of Westminster Bridge, we could walk from their hotel - and we did, arriving ever so slightly late. But luckily, having been before, I knew that they stop just down the steps for a brief talk, so I joined the group there. And we went through pretty much the same route as last time - except for missing the actual walk onto the Millennium Bridge to get the best view of St. Paul's, which I was disappointed about. Never mind - despite that, and some small errors in the narrative, it's still a fascinating walk, and highly recommended. Free - donate what you want at the end. Photos for the walk, and the rest of the weekend, here.

Afterwards, I took my guests on a trip that I still think should be part of this walk - to see the Scoop, which I've been to many's the time. I suppose it bookends his walk nicely to have it start and finish at a bridge, but this is only a few minutes' walk away, and has a better view of Tower Bridge, as well as the City lights - quite a spectacular view, if you've just been to a show there! Absolutely shattered - the guided walk itself ran over by half an hour - we crawled home.

At least that day, we had the privilege (ever less common, these days) of taking the Tube; since then, we haven't really - the District and Circle lines, which we needed, were closed for engineering works in that section. (Just like the last time they were here!) Not that we needed them that much, as it happened: I'd decided that a boat trip would be just the thing, and yesterday we'd arranged to meet Helen, who said she'd come up for the day, at London Eye pier to take a sightseeing cruise to Greenwich.

Well, it was a beautiful day - absolutely perfect for a boat trip. And we walked to the pier, which we'd also done the night before, for the guided walk. This turned out to be a mistake - what with me just missing my bus to the hotel, and awful crowds on the bridge, we ended up missing our boat. Poor Helen was left waiting for us. Well, anyway, it gave us time to get ice cream and water - and the boat we ended up getting was much nicer, by Helen's account.

I had tried to get us a lunch cruise - but they were booked up already. This was obviously one of the boats used for that, with tables and proper, swivel chairs - we sat inside, in this section, what with the upper deck being so full. Helen remarked on the cleanliness of the windows, and she was right - many of the photos linked to above were taken through those windows.

Fascinating commentary accompanied us all the way to Greenwich, where we didn't plan to spend too long - with a show booked for that night, we were under some time pressure. So when we saw a Nando's right on the dock, we decided that would do nicely. We would've liked to eat on the roof terrace, but unsurprisingly, there would have been a wait for that, so we ate very pleasantly downstairs instead, the sun streaming in the window on us - and were well fed. Afterwards, we passed the Cutty Sark on our way to the market, where some time and money were spent. A stroll through the naval college afterwards yielded some interesting views, of Canary Wharf and the O2 across the river, before our trip back.

The boat for our return journey was of a different design, covered fore and aft, with an exposed central section - which, of course, was where we ended up sitting. And was probably where we got sunburnt. We were accompanied for our trip by a wedding party, of all things! The bride got a round of applause, and I think they had reserved a space at the back. They disembarked at Westminster with us - where they were headed, I cannot say. For our part, we needed to eat before the show, but not much - so we decided on afternoon tea, and Helen suggested the National Gallery. Where, unfortunately, official afternoon tea had ended in the restaurant - but we seated ourselves in the self-service café and were much revived by the cake and beverages on offer there. Until they threw us out, too.

It was National Busking Day, as it happened, and the focus was on Trafalgar Square, just outside. Sadly, that too had ended by the time we left the café, but we perched ourselves on the edge of a fountain, and were given timetables for the busking festival that runs for weeks yet! And when a bench came free to the side, we took our places on that and people-watched until it was time to head to the theatre.

We really didn't have far to go. The Coliseum is about a two-minute walk from that end of the square, and I'd booked us seats for a contemporary ballet there - showing for two nights only. The building itself helped to convince me that this was the thing to go to - it's so ornate, I was sure they'd be impressed. Which they were. I'd seen slightly cheaper seats on the official website, but got slightly better ones with Discount Theatre - so I booked those, and things looked up when we were told by one of the ushers that it was ok to move forward to better seats, if we could see them! We ended up with a lovely view, and my companions went out at both intervals to photograph the spectacular décor. I do have to wonder whether those who might have paid extra for similar seats would be miffed at others getting them at a discount! Ah well..

There were three ballets, with an interval between each pair. I didn't get much of the story of the first, but it was beautiful to look at - both athletic and graceful. The second, Tristesse, depicted a group of friends who started amicably - with many a titter from the audience at their antics - dancing to well-known classical pieces, played by a pianist who was on stage with them. Things deteriorated, however. The final piece was a hilarious treatise on the proverbial woman scorned - woe betide the man who jilts his bride at the altar!

Afterwards, Helen left for her train by foot, but we had to take a bus. Fair play to Google Maps, whose directions print very well, which is how we found our bus stop, just as the bus arrived. Mind you, when we disembarked and were trying to find our way back to the hotel, said directions could have been better. We got ever so slightly lost, which wasn't helped by the fact that, unusually, it rained on us (slightly) and of course, it was dark and we were tired after a long day. We managed, but it was a nuisance. On my bus back home, I encountered the most interesting crowd - from the man swigging from a beer bottle, right under the "No alcohol" sign, to the middle-aged ladies who looked like they'd come from a wedding, to the extremely drunk (and, to be fair, extremely good-looking) young man - South African it transpired - who flirted relentlessly with them all the way to the terminus. To the amusement of his girlfriend.

This morning, I ended up taking exactly the same route from my bus stop to the hotel that we'd got lost on the night before. I didn't get lost this time - pity I hadn't had those directions with me the first time! (They were slightly different from those of the night before.) And then we walked back to catch the bus to Liverpool Street, and waited a very long time for the #11. Which, when it deigned to come, turned out to be one of the dreaded Routemasters, predictably - and predictably crowded. My companions stood downstairs - I was on the stairs for a while, then got a seat upstairs. A dubious privilege, what with deficient air conditioning (a feature of Routemasters) and non-opening windows. Apparently, someone from upstairs went down to beg the driver to turn on the aircon, only to be told that it was already on. I've complained about my two recent journeys on them, for all the good it'll do - apparently, complaints have soared, but TFL resolutely refuses to accept there's a problem. Probably waiting for the complaints to die down over winter, when there's less sunshine to bake the passengers.

Alighting gratefully at the station, we had lunch at the Merchant of Bishopsgate, which they'd spotted on the ground floor. And were very well fed, on wooden platters - although I think it was misguided to line mine with a sheet of newspaper, filled with stories related to fish, given that I was having chicken. Never mind - it was very tasty, and the service friendly and efficient. Also a great idea to have "small plates" - for those of small appetite, or in a hurry. I'd go again.

And when I wound my way home (by Tube, blissfully!), I finally got time to blog. Tomorrow, nothing much on Meetup, but I found a cheap ticket to see Paul Sinha in the Arts Theatre tomorrow night. It'll be interesting to see him live, for once.. Apparently, it's a preview of his show for the Edinburgh Festival.