Film: Mrs. Henderson Presents

Back to Ireland today. Just missed two buses that would have done me to get to Liverpool Street - they came and went while I was making my way across the road. The display at the stop was as much a work of fiction as ever - I waited for a while, until it got to the point where, even if it was telling the truth, I wouldn't get there in a time that would keep me from worrying. So I said hang it, and took the Tube instead - which, of course, was much faster.

Wow, the train was so empty.. as was the airport. Hallelujah for the end of summer, then! Or maybe it's just the constant strikes.. Anyway, my flight was, of course, delayed, giving me time to eat, but not enough time to have more than a quick meal. Pret it was - but oh, what a joy to have plenty of seating available! The food was welcome - even if, as usual, they had sold out of chocolate "moose". And this was the first time I'd been in a position to notice the departures board inside Pret at the airport - handily, right beside me, so all I had to do was look over. I had just finished when my gate was announced.

More joy - rather than make us trek halfway around the airport, to our usual Gates 40-59, we had a much shorter hop to Gate 86! (in the other direction). When I got there, I stood behind the guy who'd arrived just in front of me - he had a trolley bag, so I figured that, like me, he was priority - with Ryanair, only priority passengers can take a trolley bag as hand luggage. I couldn't see the sign that tells you which side is which. More people with bags filled in behind me - and then the chaos began, as one of the ground staff realised the sign was turned the wrong way around.. and, as luck would have it, we were on the wrong side. They were as helpful as your average goldfish, telling anyone who enquired that they'd have to go right to the back, and the end of the priority queue on the other side. Many of us ignored that, and one helpful individual released one of the elastic barriers, allowing us to squeeze into the other queue.

When boarding finally started, mayhem ensued, with priority passengers on both sides. Finally, there was movement on our side, with some priority passengers at the front making a break for it - so I stayed on that side. Whereupon our progress promptly ceased, as the people at the front on our side were now non-priority. So I made my own break for it, someone supportive kindly following behind. Funnily enough, my boarding pass wasn't scanned.. she just kind of peered at it to make sure the name matched my passport. Shortly afterwards, as we were stuck for ages in the tunnel, waiting to board, I overheard a woman behind me, who didn't seem to be familiar with the process. She mused aloud to her companion that she wondered whether it was somebody new to the job - hopefully, as she said, because she'd hate to think this was the future of aviation! (Whether she was talking about the boarding queue débacle, or the tunnel queue, I cannot say..)

During the flight, I had cause to wonder where she was on the plane. Because the bloke behind me had a frightful problem. It took the stewards most of the flight to get the trolley down to where we were - he would have been in Row 15. She was busy with the other side of the aisle, and he asked - loudly - whether they were dealing with our side. So she asked him what he wanted. He replied that he was starving, and thirsty. She replied that, well, she had neither food nor drink. She did have lasagne, but that would require heating, and by now we were 10 minutes from landing, so she wasn't going to do that. He enquired plaintively whether she didn't even have beer.. she replied that no, she had water and spirits.

He obviously wasn't used to Ryanair food carts in the evenings. Well, he resigned himself, and asked for a large scotch, with water. Heh. I wish I'd been in a position to see this, as well as hear it. Firstly, she didn't know what he meant - her colleague had to explain to her what he meant by "scotch". She then asked him whether he wanted to avail of the special offer. In a somewhat desperate tone, he asked what the special offer was. She produced one of those little airline bottles of whiskey, and said that he could have one bottle, or two for £10. He sighed, and took the special offer. Then he asked for water.

Heh. So, she asked whether he wanted still or sparkling, then produced a 500ml bottle. He nearly had a fit. A protracted argument followed, in which she completely failed to understand what he wanted the water for, and kept asking him how much he wanted! I dunno how they eventually solved it, but the time did finally come for him to pay - asking which was cheaper, £ or €, she confirmed that € would be cheaper. Oh, and she was also able to offer him a bar of chocolate - Mars or Twix. I think he went with Twix.

It's always fun to observe people who aren't used to Ryanair.

Well, I did finally make it to the ground, and collected my car from the Park4Less. Before I started off, I made sure to locate the QR code I'd been emailed, in the "unlikely" event of the barrier not opening. Well gee, when I got to it, the camera that was supposed to read my license plate and lift the barrier didn't do so. So there I was, making attempt after unsuccessful attempt to scan the QR code. Happily, after a few gos, someone came on the intercom and asked whether I was OK - when I explained, she let me out. Once I found the booking reference number..

I finally did get back to my mother's - where one of the late night films was Mrs. Henderson Presents, starring Dame Judi Dench in the true story of a wealthy widow who bought the rundown Windmill Theatre in London. Getting a more experienced manager (Bob Hoskins) didn't really help to revive the theatre's fortunes - until she had the idea of putting nude women on stage. Thing is, they ran right through the Blitz.. in fact, what I found moving about it was the demonstration of "Blitz spirit"! With floors underground, they figured the theatre was the safest place they could be! and, famously, never closed. My God, I'd have been proud to be there with them.. So, interesting film, and very watchable.

The weekend's film, as of now, is looking like one I'd never even heard of until recently, when someone was talking about it! Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is a comedy about a 50s cleaning lady (Lesley Manville), who dreams of owning a Dior dress - so, off she goes to Paris for it! Based on a book, it seems - and from the trailer, it looks like the absolutely charming story of a middle-aged lady who finally gets the chance to fulfil a few of her dreams! Showing in Ennis, again.

On Monday, I'd booked with 50-50 Trivia again for the afternoon - and then cancelled, because of the job, which starts next week! Rescheduled from the day of the Queen's funeral. However, I've now told them I'm coming again, because I just found out they won't be ready to start me on Monday, it'll be Tuesday.. Then Ivan is supposed to be back, and has suggested going for a drink in the evening - I have to check with him on Sunday, when I'm back from Ireland, though.

On Tuesday, I "provisionally" booked with  Laurence Summers and the 45+ Not Grumpy Old Londoners again - this time, for Down and Out in Clerkenwell, ironically very near to where I live. Again, I had to cancel this because, as he says, I'll have gone from "provisional" to "professional"!

That evening, at any rate, I'm with the 45+s again - this time for a classical concert, at St. John's, Smith Square. OMG it's years since I was last there - and they have discounted tickets!

On Wednesday, I "provisionally" booked for the Soho Comedy Factory again.. but lo, was saved from having to make another of those difficult decisions, when Up in the Cheap Seats posted a trip to see The Boy with Two Hearts, at the National! Based on another true story, of a refugee family from Afghanistan, with a little boy who needs heart surgery. Interestingly, I thought to use my Theatre Token for this - since I was finally booking something during box office hours, and could ring them up; few theatres take them online. But I had to book by phone for that - which incurs a £3 fee that other booking methods don't! So I left it, and just booked a ticket online for full price. Was perplexed when it wouldn't accept my card - until somehow I was logged into my National Theatre account, and noticed I had an old billing address. When I changed it, I had no further problems. There's a moral there. (Interestingly, I couldn't even my attendance at the comedy club - they now close RSVPs very early!)

On Thursday, I was thinking film - but what was coming up wasn't as interesting as what the same group is advertising in Hampstead Theatre. So I booked to go and see Ravenscourt with them - a medical drama, centred on the failings of the mental healthcare system. And yay, for this I finally used my Theatre Token! (No phone booking fee, here.) Well, that's a weight off..

Then I'm back to Ireland again, because of the dates I have weekend things in London in October, and the date of my mother's birthday, which I want to be back in Ireland for. It all works out - but only if I switch weekends, which I'm doing by coming back to Ireland again next weekend.