Handily, I had the directions saved on my phone from last time. The Arthouse is one of those places that it takes me nearly an hour to get to, at best, so no point in researching anything but the quickest route. Still, even at that, given the late start time, I had time to collect my watch, which I'd left in to get a new battery and strap - red, for the evening that was in it. I left straight after, catching a train to pick up the Victoria Line. (Handy it wasn't the Piccadilly, which was apparently in trouble all evening for lack of trains).
Take the Victoria Line to Finsbury Park.. it's funny, these days, now that I've handed in my notice and am on gardening leave (still get paid but am actually barred from working), I'm so much less tired, and I seem to notice more. Like, for instance, the candy-pink banisters at Finsbury Park Station:
Now, one entrance is closed longterm, so again I had to meander around the building. But I was early enough, for once, to stop and look around me:
Left from the exit, left around the building and under the bridge, and left again, took me to the stops for the W3 and W7, either of which would have done me. It was the W3 that was ready to leave though, as before - handy, as it stops just a few feet away from the Arthouse. And a long queue of people were filing onto the bus - I joined the end of the queue, musing at the people trying to butt in from the side. Really folks - unless you can cajole someone into letting you in, it's quicker just to go from the back. And cajoling, when it works, just makes me feel guilty..
A crammed bus, but I got a seat upstairs. And when the time came to get off, we were stopped at the roundabout long enough for me to get downstairs again, handily. Walked the short distance to the Arthouse, ordered a wine - and do you know, for once, the house wine is really drinkable here! Recommended. I was also early enough to grab one of the very few remaining free tables, which I clung to until the house opened.
They'd said we'd be ok showing the ticket confirmation on our phones, and so it proved. And ooh perfect, I was right in choosing the second row for the remaining shows here - the front row is too close to what is quite a high stage, but the second row is just right:
So, the same crumpled red fabric as before, a slightly different set-up - with a wicker basket containing some props. Nell Phoenix, it was this evening, with no-one to introduce her - I'd noticed her in the bar beforehand, coercing some friends into helping her set up. Dressed in red boots, for the evening that was in it.
What followed was quite long, for a one-person show without interval. We might have started a bit late - I didn't check - but it was nearly 10 when we finished, which puts it at well over an hour. Not that it dragged - dear me, no! You know, I sound like a broken record sometimes, I think, but people who think that storytelling is just for kids are missing out on so much! Nell started with a French Little Red Riding - Cap. She then moved on to the more proactive, German version - the wolf gets its comeuppance - and of course, in both, we got a beautiful rendition of a familiar tale.
She continued with far Eastern versions, in which the under-mentioned mother, who never does come out of it well, at least gets more of a mention than in the European ones. And then, broadening her scope, she included a tale of a girl who became a wolf.. and a boy who didn't mind at all being eaten by one. Which resonated with me, as I remembered the Neil Jordan film, The Company of Wolves, which ends with someone reciting, "I'll tell you the story of a wounded wolf". I remember the tale ends with "For she was just a girl, after all, who had strayed from her path in the forest.."
There's a whole background to these familiar stories, and it's a joy to see storytellers that have researched them, found different versions to highlight different things, and are happy to share them. You know, I missed this once before, despite having bought a ticket - I'm so glad I decided to buy another for tonight! I'd have hated to miss it again.
Straight home - unluckily, as I approached the stop, my bus sailed past, and it was a very, very cold wait for the next. Entertainment was provided by an earthworm, which had positioned itself very unwisely right where we were walking, but wasn't going anywhere fast - and a car across the road, a couple of guys in it, who were attempting to parallel park in a space you could have got a truck into. Really, I considered popping across to give them some advice. They finally gave up and drove off..
The next bus finally came - which was diverted, but that was handy for me, as we just went a faster route back to the station. And then it was the Tube, and o, what a relief, the heating was on full blast. And with all this transferring between different modes of transport, I hit maximum fare at some point - possibly by the time I'd taken that bus journey. So the rest of the trip was free! Much appreciated.
The most interesting thing tomorrow happens to be on during the day. And you know what, what good is gardening leave if I don't take full advantage? I can't normally go to things in the middle of the day - well, as it happens, Carpe Diem is headed off for a Riverside Stroll, Organ Recital and Lunch. Now, that does sound nice - but I've never been out with them, and don't know any of them, so I'm not so pushed about socialising with them - besides, they're charging £5, and I'm not sure that includes the price of lunch. No, I think I'll spend a bit longer in bed and just head to the organ recital on my own. Which they don't mention the location of - but a quick bit of Googling revealed it to be one of a regular series of free recitals at St. Bride's Church, at 1:15. The one that, appropriately, looks like a wedding cake.
On Saturday, I'm back with the London European Club at Sadler's Wells, for a performance called Loch na hEala ("Swan Lake" in Irish). Mikel Murfi is in it, apparently - and more than simply dance, this show includes storytelling and live music. I'm guessing there'll be something of the Children of Lir in it - and apparently, the music is both Irish and Nordic. Sounds intriguing.
And on Sunday, I'm back with the London European Club, for a concert by Sondorgo and Maarja Nuut, at Jerwood Hall. And what's more, it's nice that there'll be people that I know at both of these events..
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