Pretty last-minute, London Speaks Sessions advertised a talk by a man who's well along the way to visiting every country in the world - with just the proverbial backpack and laptop. Ah well now, with my wandering bent, that was exactly the kind of thing to appeal. Turned out to be a Funzing event - actually, I think all this group's events are; it's a good way to publicise them. I booked.
Curious thing - two Meetups were scheduled for this: different names, one address specified, one not. Same theme, and both linked to the same Funzing page. Ah - right. I went with the Funzing directions, such as they were.. "AlphaBeta, ask for Huckletree". Eh.. 18 Finsbury Square was more comprehensible. The Meetup group, however, said it was at #12. What the hey, it was probably just a big building, encompassing both - I wasn't familiar with the area.
Next problem I had was with Google Maps. The simplest way to get there was by Overground, but a combination of train or bus and Tube would be faster. The train would be going in the other direction and doubling back on myself - I decided to take the bus and then the Northern Line. Thing is.. they said to get the bus to Clapham North. And that it'd be three stops from where I got on.
I'm not that familiar with the Northern Line. I didn't realise that Clapham Common, which we passed long before Clapham North, is also on the Northern Line, so it'd have been faster to take the Tube from there. And even that is 10 stops away! Just imagine my confusion as I waited for the Clapham North stop to appear.. oh, and they also wanted me to get off at the stop after that and walk back. Dunno, gremlins must've hacked the site - I see it's been corrected since.
I did make it to Clapham North, with its famously narrow platform, and to Moorgate, which helpfully had a sign indicating which exit to take for Finsbury Square. I didn't recognise much from Streetview, but (correctly) turned left, and there I was. And behold and lo, on the other side of the square was a huge building with "AlphaBeta" over the entrance. Wish I could've taken a photo, but my phone was dead, as usual. Upon passing through the imposing entrance, I found myself in a modern, wood-panelled lobby, with an enormous reception desk, but couldn't see Huckletree. No worries - the guy at reception spotted me and directed me downstairs..
The only obvious entrance had a desk just inside, with two ladies and a laptop. I gave my name, she checked it off - no tickets in advance for this. She was good enough to give me a 10% discount voucher for Funzing, and said to go to the auditorium. Auditorium? Oh, those steps over there with folks sitting on them.
From then on, things got easier. Massively helped by generous quantities of free wine - help yourself, several bottles of red and white, and plastic containers, just over there! Great idea - may we see more of it. I helped myself liberally - be a shame to let it spoil - and made my way over. The prime spots were gone by now, and seating was slightly complicated by the two massive concrete pillars holding the roof up, which kind of spoiled the view of the screen. I discovered that the view was better from the side - the conscientious speaker actually came over before starting, to check that we could all see ok!
Both laptop and backpack were present on stage - apparently though, he lost his camera when he was mugged, just recently. Awful shame - one of the best parts of this talk was the photography, and he displayed some amazing shots. Check them out on his Facebook page, or his website. I do hope he gets another camera.. and soon, because his travels go on and on.
This wasn't the first time he's given this talk, and it's quite polished. His mother and girlfriend were in the audience - I guess it's tricky enough to grab time with him otherwise! He's currently through 68 (I think) of 196 countries - well, as he said, that's the total on Google, and that's what he's taking as official.
We got the details of how he persuaded work to let him work remotely, so all he needs - to quote him - are WiFi and pizza. He uses Uber, he uses AirBnB. In fact, he's got to be one of the world's greatest authorities on independent travel - I'll definitely make a note of his websites in future, especially if I'm travelling anywhere tricky. And I have to say I found the entire thing fascinating - he has a passion for travel, and as he says, the best thing about it is meeting people. Not even being mugged put him off - well, me either, when I was pickpocketed on Las Ramblas. What the hey, the good always outweighs the bad..
The Q+A afterwards was interesting. He's from Tel Aviv, and people wondered how he managed in Arab countries (just fine, apparently, as displayed in a photo of him posing with some Arabs). When does he find time to sleep? Not often. And when someone asked him where home was, he answered, "It's not a place, it's a person". Which drew a big "ahh" from the audience.. Terrific event, in an interesting and flexible space. Delighted I went!
Afterwards, my mission was to walk to the Overground station - well, it had looked easy on Google Maps, but I was pretty lost by the time I got to Spitalfields, where a map put me right again. Having to be up early again for Guildford today, I didn't have time to cook - stopped in to the local chipper for a bag of chips, which did me just fine.
Tonight, I'd booked to go to another talk - and then the World Music Meetup stepped up with a free Spanish guitar concert! Aw man - you couldn't get better for me! Travel and Spanish guitar - two of my absolute passions. About two seconds' hesitation - what the hey, it is free. And although it's in Shoreditch again, it's on late, so I should be ok. Working from home tomorrow, so a late finish shouldn't be an issue. And I see the 344 goes to within walking distance, so if I start out early enough I can take that for its whole route.
Tomorrow, I'm back with the Man with the Hat, who's taking Let's Do London - for less! - swiftly becoming another of my passions - to (ahem) The Toxic Avenger, in Southwark Playhouse. I predict another interesting night - no crystal ball required.
On Thursday, I'm back with London Dramatic Arts, for The Flick, at the Dorfman (in the National). Oh, and on Friday, they're off to Lawrence After Arabia, in Hampstead Theatre - I got cheaper from the theatre itself, so I'm going separately. They don't like that, but I have a seat upstairs, so it should be possible to avoid them - and, of course, having banned me from linking to this blog on their website, they're less likely to read the blog and find out what I'm doing. Shh!
Showing posts with label Dallas Chicken and Ribs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dallas Chicken and Ribs. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Monday, 14 December 2015
Concert: The Marian Consort
For tonight, I didn't see much that appealed on Meetup.. but I did come across the Spitalfields Music Festival. And when I saw what was on tonight - I booked it immediately. The Marian Consort is an early music choral ensemble, and they were performing sacred Christmas songs from the 15th and 16th centuries. Hubba..
It was in Shoreditch, so handier for my new flat. I went straight from work though - Tube, then a bus. As with any combo journey, I had several options - Google Maps presented me with two that involved getting off the Tube at Cannon Street, and two that meant I needed to get off at the next stop, Monument. I figured the longer Tube journey was the better bet, what with traffic. The Monument option then presented me with two bus choices, leaving from the same stop - as ever, the wise thing to do is to take whichever comes first.
So, I headed for the nearest station - West Kensington, frustrating as ever in not having an indicator board on the platform. Just as I was getting antsy - particularly with all the bags I was carrying - one arrived, and I crammed on. It got particularly crowded at South Kensington, but I finally got a seat at Victoria, where there's always a large changeover of passengers.
Exiting at Monument, I took the time to check the map at the door, which showed bus stops - I'd forgotten to check earlier. I also, wisely, checked where I was coming out - I had a vague idea of turning right and heading towards the river, but had I done that at this exit (Fish Street Hill), I'd have gone under the road I wanted. Instead, I needed to go up and around the corner, to King William Street, then cross and head down to the bus stop.
Relieved to drop my bags there, I just nicely had time to check the map before any bus came that I could use, and discovered that there weren't just two buses I could take - there were four! Google Maps had told me about the 35 and the 48 - when I saw a 149 approaching, I checked and, sure enough, it went right past Shoreditch Church, which was my destination!
It was horribly crowded. I managed to squeeze on, and ended up right beside the luggage rack at the front, where I put my things. But it was pretty uncomfortable, and it was a real relief to get off, just down the road from the church. And it was nice not to have to rush, as I strolled up to the box office and got my ticket. I went straight in.
For some reason, I thought I was booking a seat at the front - it was at the back, but no matter. The view was partially obscured by a column, but I knew that in advance and paid less because of it. The pews were comfortably accoutred with long cushions, and there was plenty of room for my bags under the seats. No point in taking pictures, really - it's very run-down, all peeling plaster. Fairy lights were draped along the galleries, for the season that's in it.
I don't think anyone was sat upstairs, but the lower level was reasonably full. And oh my, but it was worth the journey to hear such incredible music. It continually astounds me that London regularly produces world-class entertainment in very humble establishments. It was glorious.. Victoria, Mouton, Morales, Guerrero, finishing with Stabile. Music soared past the peeling paint, and we were transported. Never mind that it finished half an hour later than advertised - I don't think they were counting the interval.
Collectors on the way out held buckets for us to give to the festival, which aims to bring music to the disadvantaged. And outside, the rain was drizzling down, for my walk to the Overground station - handier for getting back, a straight run to Clapham Junction. A long flight of stairs up to the platform, and a long journey back - and for the third time in a row, I noted officials on the train; I think they're much more visible on this route.
At the new flat, I didn't have anything to hand to eat, and it was getting late - I decided to hit Dallas Chicken and Ribs again, just for chips - I suspect everything else there is too spicy for me. Took him a while to fry me some fresh - they didn't have much custom, on a rainy Monday night. And I had to explain a few times that that was all I wanted. And very much appreciated they were!
Tomorrow, I'm meant to be off to the London International Horse Show - if they get my ticket to me in time! It was only posted on Saturday, to my old flat - I'll be swinging by there in the morning anyway, I can check. And on Wednesday, I'm off to Laugh Train Home, in the Four Thieves, Battersea. So, back here again..
It was in Shoreditch, so handier for my new flat. I went straight from work though - Tube, then a bus. As with any combo journey, I had several options - Google Maps presented me with two that involved getting off the Tube at Cannon Street, and two that meant I needed to get off at the next stop, Monument. I figured the longer Tube journey was the better bet, what with traffic. The Monument option then presented me with two bus choices, leaving from the same stop - as ever, the wise thing to do is to take whichever comes first.
So, I headed for the nearest station - West Kensington, frustrating as ever in not having an indicator board on the platform. Just as I was getting antsy - particularly with all the bags I was carrying - one arrived, and I crammed on. It got particularly crowded at South Kensington, but I finally got a seat at Victoria, where there's always a large changeover of passengers.
Exiting at Monument, I took the time to check the map at the door, which showed bus stops - I'd forgotten to check earlier. I also, wisely, checked where I was coming out - I had a vague idea of turning right and heading towards the river, but had I done that at this exit (Fish Street Hill), I'd have gone under the road I wanted. Instead, I needed to go up and around the corner, to King William Street, then cross and head down to the bus stop.
Relieved to drop my bags there, I just nicely had time to check the map before any bus came that I could use, and discovered that there weren't just two buses I could take - there were four! Google Maps had told me about the 35 and the 48 - when I saw a 149 approaching, I checked and, sure enough, it went right past Shoreditch Church, which was my destination!
It was horribly crowded. I managed to squeeze on, and ended up right beside the luggage rack at the front, where I put my things. But it was pretty uncomfortable, and it was a real relief to get off, just down the road from the church. And it was nice not to have to rush, as I strolled up to the box office and got my ticket. I went straight in.
For some reason, I thought I was booking a seat at the front - it was at the back, but no matter. The view was partially obscured by a column, but I knew that in advance and paid less because of it. The pews were comfortably accoutred with long cushions, and there was plenty of room for my bags under the seats. No point in taking pictures, really - it's very run-down, all peeling plaster. Fairy lights were draped along the galleries, for the season that's in it.
I don't think anyone was sat upstairs, but the lower level was reasonably full. And oh my, but it was worth the journey to hear such incredible music. It continually astounds me that London regularly produces world-class entertainment in very humble establishments. It was glorious.. Victoria, Mouton, Morales, Guerrero, finishing with Stabile. Music soared past the peeling paint, and we were transported. Never mind that it finished half an hour later than advertised - I don't think they were counting the interval.
Collectors on the way out held buckets for us to give to the festival, which aims to bring music to the disadvantaged. And outside, the rain was drizzling down, for my walk to the Overground station - handier for getting back, a straight run to Clapham Junction. A long flight of stairs up to the platform, and a long journey back - and for the third time in a row, I noted officials on the train; I think they're much more visible on this route.
At the new flat, I didn't have anything to hand to eat, and it was getting late - I decided to hit Dallas Chicken and Ribs again, just for chips - I suspect everything else there is too spicy for me. Took him a while to fry me some fresh - they didn't have much custom, on a rainy Monday night. And I had to explain a few times that that was all I wanted. And very much appreciated they were!
Tomorrow, I'm meant to be off to the London International Horse Show - if they get my ticket to me in time! It was only posted on Saturday, to my old flat - I'll be swinging by there in the morning anyway, I can check. And on Wednesday, I'm off to Laugh Train Home, in the Four Thieves, Battersea. So, back here again..
Wednesday, 2 December 2015
Concert: Lang Lang with the Philharmonic Orchestra
For last night, Meetup threw up something again - this time, the Kensington Classical Music group were off to see an apparently famous pianist called Lang Lang. Now, the name meant nothing to me, but I probably had seen him before. More important to me was the programme of Beethoven and Mozart.
And so I was headed to the Royal Festival Hall. Now, it occurred to me that my new flat is more convenient for there.. so wouldn't it be handy just to stay there last night? since I have the keys n all. So I checked with the landlord, and the internet was working - and so after work, I raced home and packed a bag, with the necessaries, plus what I wanted to wear today. Mind you, I wouldn't have time to go there before the concert - but I checked, and the Royal Festival Hall has a free cloakroom. Ideal! So I dragged quite a lot of luggage with me into town.
I decided I had reason enough to use the lift on the Hungerford bridge. It is handy, how you can get there without using steps - there's a ramp leading upwards to the Festival Hall from beside the lift. Then I had to thread through crowds to get to the shop where we were supposed to meet the organiser - made it, got my ticket, and headed downstairs for the cloakroom, where a lovely man took my bags.
Heading upstairs from there, I couldn't find where the lift was, but I knew my way from the next floor up. And I waited for the glass lift, for quite a long time, because I do think it's worth it, to get that singing.. All the announcements about the concert start being imminent had come while we were still waiting for the lift, so when I got up there I made a mad dash - just around the corner, to Door D. And mine was the very back row, and the second seat in, so I didn't have to search too hard or inconvenience too many people. And I had just about enough time to get my breath back before the concert started.
The Philharmonic started us off, a grand piano pushed over to the side. After a relatively short Beethoven piece, half the orchestra left the stage to enable the movement of this behemoth of an instrument. (They came back after the piano was moved to a position where it neatly obscured many of them.) And in due course, the Great Man appeared, hair fashionably tousled in the manner of celebrity classical artists.
And he played some Mozart. He did play very well, but I have to say this was a new take on Mozart for me - while technically it sounded like Mozart's style, it was rather different. Which I put down to the uniquely flamboyant style of the pianist. I read a review of one of his previous concerts that mentioned how the orchestra always seemed half a bar behind him, and indeed he did seem to be on a mission to show us how easy he found it. Not only did he play fast, but whenever he had a free appendage, he played to the crowd with it. A free hand wasn't just left dangling - o no, it was waved in the air with a flourish! His feet, when not occcupied with pressing pedals, were slid back and forth. His head just wouldn't stay still. All in all, the impression was that he found all this really easy, and wanted to make that point.
He finished to a tumultuous round of applause - indeed, there was hardly a free seat in the house. I don't remember a previous occasion when all the boxes were occupied - including the royal box, although probably not with royalty. As one of my companions remarked, they looked Chinese, and might have been the pianist's family. And on the fourth iteration of this applause, he agreed to play a little bit more. Goodee - frankly, I was sick of him already.
It was a relief to leave at the interval - not least because I hadn't eaten before going there, and was in need of food. Which came in the form of Divine chocolate bars, which are indeed delicious. After the interval, we returned - and no piano! No Lang Lang! Something of a relief for me - although his appearance was a bit brief, I thought, for a concert that was primarily sold on the basis of his performance! (Should have been called "The Philharmonic Orchestra with Lang Lang".) Instead, we got some more Beethoven, courtesy of the Philharmonic.
Afterwards, I took the singing lift all the way down to the cloakroom, discovering that the lift on that level was indeed hidden around a corner. By the time I got upstairs again, everyone had dispersed - which was a shame - although it was wiser for me to get going, because I had to get all this stuff to the new place! Which I did - and then needed something to eat. It was really too late to eat out, so I hunted for a takeaway, and came across Dallas Chicken and Ribs, near Clapham Junction station. I ordered the grilled chicken burger meal, was told there'd be a wait, and took a seat. After the allotted time, he served my meal in a bag, so I took it to my new home.. and it was very welcome: although I found the sauce far too spicy and I don't think I'll bother with there again - there are plenty of eateries locally.
Tonight, I'm off to Sands Film Studios in Rotherhithe - which works out handier again if I stay in the new place. Not there for a film though - nope, I'm headed, with the World Music Meetup, to see a Nepalese band called Namlo. Well, they sounded good on YouTube!
And so I was headed to the Royal Festival Hall. Now, it occurred to me that my new flat is more convenient for there.. so wouldn't it be handy just to stay there last night? since I have the keys n all. So I checked with the landlord, and the internet was working - and so after work, I raced home and packed a bag, with the necessaries, plus what I wanted to wear today. Mind you, I wouldn't have time to go there before the concert - but I checked, and the Royal Festival Hall has a free cloakroom. Ideal! So I dragged quite a lot of luggage with me into town.
I decided I had reason enough to use the lift on the Hungerford bridge. It is handy, how you can get there without using steps - there's a ramp leading upwards to the Festival Hall from beside the lift. Then I had to thread through crowds to get to the shop where we were supposed to meet the organiser - made it, got my ticket, and headed downstairs for the cloakroom, where a lovely man took my bags.
Heading upstairs from there, I couldn't find where the lift was, but I knew my way from the next floor up. And I waited for the glass lift, for quite a long time, because I do think it's worth it, to get that singing.. All the announcements about the concert start being imminent had come while we were still waiting for the lift, so when I got up there I made a mad dash - just around the corner, to Door D. And mine was the very back row, and the second seat in, so I didn't have to search too hard or inconvenience too many people. And I had just about enough time to get my breath back before the concert started.
The Philharmonic started us off, a grand piano pushed over to the side. After a relatively short Beethoven piece, half the orchestra left the stage to enable the movement of this behemoth of an instrument. (They came back after the piano was moved to a position where it neatly obscured many of them.) And in due course, the Great Man appeared, hair fashionably tousled in the manner of celebrity classical artists.
And he played some Mozart. He did play very well, but I have to say this was a new take on Mozart for me - while technically it sounded like Mozart's style, it was rather different. Which I put down to the uniquely flamboyant style of the pianist. I read a review of one of his previous concerts that mentioned how the orchestra always seemed half a bar behind him, and indeed he did seem to be on a mission to show us how easy he found it. Not only did he play fast, but whenever he had a free appendage, he played to the crowd with it. A free hand wasn't just left dangling - o no, it was waved in the air with a flourish! His feet, when not occcupied with pressing pedals, were slid back and forth. His head just wouldn't stay still. All in all, the impression was that he found all this really easy, and wanted to make that point.
He finished to a tumultuous round of applause - indeed, there was hardly a free seat in the house. I don't remember a previous occasion when all the boxes were occupied - including the royal box, although probably not with royalty. As one of my companions remarked, they looked Chinese, and might have been the pianist's family. And on the fourth iteration of this applause, he agreed to play a little bit more. Goodee - frankly, I was sick of him already.
It was a relief to leave at the interval - not least because I hadn't eaten before going there, and was in need of food. Which came in the form of Divine chocolate bars, which are indeed delicious. After the interval, we returned - and no piano! No Lang Lang! Something of a relief for me - although his appearance was a bit brief, I thought, for a concert that was primarily sold on the basis of his performance! (Should have been called "The Philharmonic Orchestra with Lang Lang".) Instead, we got some more Beethoven, courtesy of the Philharmonic.
Afterwards, I took the singing lift all the way down to the cloakroom, discovering that the lift on that level was indeed hidden around a corner. By the time I got upstairs again, everyone had dispersed - which was a shame - although it was wiser for me to get going, because I had to get all this stuff to the new place! Which I did - and then needed something to eat. It was really too late to eat out, so I hunted for a takeaway, and came across Dallas Chicken and Ribs, near Clapham Junction station. I ordered the grilled chicken burger meal, was told there'd be a wait, and took a seat. After the allotted time, he served my meal in a bag, so I took it to my new home.. and it was very welcome: although I found the sauce far too spicy and I don't think I'll bother with there again - there are plenty of eateries locally.
Tonight, I'm off to Sands Film Studios in Rotherhithe - which works out handier again if I stay in the new place. Not there for a film though - nope, I'm headed, with the World Music Meetup, to see a Nepalese band called Namlo. Well, they sounded good on YouTube!
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