Today, Funzing advertised an ice skating display in aid of the victims of Grenfell. Via Funzing UK. The usual 10% discount applied.
A funny thing happened on the way to the ice rink.. Now, I know it was past 3 on a Saturday afternoon, but I needn't have been up yet. So it's just as well I was, because in comes a letting agent, trailing a potential renter, with nary a word of warning! Not straight into my room, I hasten to add.. I was in the bathroom when they arrived, and the agent checked politely before entering my room. Still, I had to apologise for the state of the place (actually, I can't do anything about that anyway until I get the keys to the new place and start moving stuff), and explain about the lightbulb that needs replacing (which I could have done). Why they didn't think to fire off an email this morning, at least, to warn me, I don't know! Never mind, she was still impressed at the size of the room - and not impressed by the unwashed plate to the side. Hah! If that bothers her, she'll have trouble in this flat.. at least I keep mine in my room!
Well, after all that excitement, I moseyed off to Tesco to get in food - for later, as it happened, because by the time I got back, it was time to head off again. Today was the first time I was headed to Alexandra Palace! Makes sense - apparently, it's the country's largest indoor ice rink. And it's quite a trek; I had to go to Finsbury Park - second day in a row - and then as far north again. Two buses, then - and as I waited for the first, it was quite a pleasant, mild day.
I was just in time for the W3 at Finsbury Park, as it happened - and gee, "Ally Pally" (as it's called) is on a hill, so I was glad of the bus to get up there. Great views:
Now, Ally Pally is so big that it has several bus stops - one for the garden centre, one for the Palm Court, one for the ice rink, others after. Naturally, I continued to the ice rink - unfortunately, the car park entrance, near the bus stop, is closed, apparently for building works, and I needs must walk back to the main entrance - no path on that side, I had to cross the road and then cross back, California-style. Oddly, the main entrance is near nothing in particular, apart from the above view.
So, I moseyed in - I'd received a email earlier, telling me to proceed through the entrance for the ice rink, and through the cafe to the ice rink proper, where people would be practicing. Gave my name at the desk, where she checked it off a list - and was prevailed upon to buy a programme, which I did. I'd got cash at Tesco. In the cafe, brunch was a packet of Munchies, which I ate before following the lead of some people around me, and heading in.
I was wise to wait, like the others - OH GOD it was freezing! Well yes, it'd have to be - it's years since I'd been in an ice rink, and I'd forgotten. They have to keep the ice from melting, after all. I noticed some of the female skaters wearing chunky socks under their tights. So I picked a seat - open seating - and shivered away merrily. As someone remarked upon arrival, "Where is everyone?" Sure enough, counting the number of people to perform, there were hardly many more than them in the audience - which is a real shame. I skipped the raffle, mind - the prizes were a bit naff.
The whole thing was organised by the London Adult Figure Skating Club - LAFSC. And it's great to see such a mixture of people on the ice - young and old, skinny and chubby, faltering and expert. There turned out to be one of the teachers sat near me, clapping everything enthusiastically - and complaining to his companion, at the interval, about the absolute beginner classes he has to teach, where some people can't even stand up on the ice! (Yep, that'd be me.) He saw this as something of a humiliation, although he accepted that someone had to do it - rubbish! When I was a lecturer, the junior lecturers were never given the more junior classes to teach - that was the job of the most senior professors, who were considered able to do it because they had a greater breadth of knowledge. He should feel flattered, methinks.
Sadly, we weren't allowed to photograph or film - photos shall appear on the LAFSC website in due course, and videos - for download by friends and family only (I'm guessing they're password-protected). But we were treated to a feast of short pieces, set to popular tunes, danced to by - as I say - performers with a varying range of skills. Some were obviously faltering - one fell, and bravely picked herself up and carried on. Others were more accomplished, and an absolute joy to watch, skimming over the ice in their sparkly costumes, spinning and gliding. Well done to them, by the way, for even being able to walk off the ice on skates - they generally had a protective guard on them when off the ice, but I'd never have managed the balance! A beautiful - if chilly - way to spend the evening, and as someone coming out behind me remarked, definitely a different thing to do!
My nose, which started to give trouble again a couple of days ago, went into full flight in the cold of the ice rink. And the strong, cold breeze outside didn't help - nor did the fact that my bus back departed while I was trying to get across the road, tricky with all the people arriving for the Haim concert. I was in a miserable, snivelling state by the time the next bus arrived, nearly 15 minutes later - and ended up with two of the good skaters sitting behind me! At Finsbury Park, the #4 would have taken me closer to home, but seeing there'd be a 14-minute wait, I hopped on a #19 instead. And that man was in a hurry to get back.. you risked your life, standing while the bus was moving, he took corners at such speed, and braked so suddenly! Never mind, it did get me home quicker - and, of course, I already had food in.
Tomorrow, Let's Do This is headed to the World Illustration Awards exhibition at Somerset House. Hopefully indoors, and warmer.
On Monday, I'm headed to storytelling by Crick Crack again, finally.. I haven't been able to make any of their more recent ones. It's in Soho Theatre, and it's Sally Pomme Clayton, with Crow. Blood. Snow. Oh my God, it's been ages. Naturally, you'd never know from their Meetup group that it's happening at all. Our boss was supposed to be in London that week, so I decided to leave the rest of the week free, for now.
Then he pinged us, last week, to say it'll actually be the week after. Cue me booking things frantically for the week that was now free - happily, I did well. On Tuesday, something very interesting - Up in the Cheap Seats is off to Whist, at Sadler's Wells. Now, turns out that this is an immersive, VR experience! Definitely different.
On Wednesday, London Literary Walks is off on Pop the Weasel, and I'm delighted to be able to accompany them. Local again, I see. Yet another attendee now that Mary's signed up, yay!
On Thursday, back to Sands Films for Fete de la Musique - Belcirque is performing, and they do sound quirky. London European Club, TunedIn London. Then it's Ireland again at the weekend.
On the 25th, I'm indulging myself with a premium seat to see Andrew Scott perform the one-man show, Seawall, written especially for him. It's at the Old Vic, two weeks only.
On the 26th, back with Up in the Cheap Seats, at Sadler's Wells. It's the Nederlands Dans Theater again - I remember good things about them from before. As I say, the boss is now in the office that week - well, he'll just have to manage without me, those two nights. I'm keeping the rest of the week, and the weekend, free, just in case. Hey, I do have to move that week as well, so could probably do with the time! Just waiting on the contract now, which I have to sign before I can pick up the keys.
And on the 2nd, back with Up in the Cheap Seats, at the Gielgud Theatre for Imperium I - Conspirator. The first part of a double-bill, but viewable independently, it is told from the point of view of Cicero's secretary, as he watches how his master's work is used to bring about an end to the Roman Republic. I should probably have booked the second part at the same time - there's a discount for that - but well, my schedule is generally so packed..!
Now, we're into the Early May Bank Holiday (whee!) - and I saw an interesting trip, advertised by Carpe Diem, for a long weekend in Bulgaria. So I applied for a place - only to be told that there'd only been six, which were now gone. When I pointed out that the Meetup page advertised 12 places, and that some were shown as still available, they removed the event entirely.
And for today, I signed up to an overnight trip to Newquay in Cornwall with Eddie's Excursions. This time, I got in the first six - ironically, they didn't guarantee it'd go ahead unless they could fill a minibus! Sure enough, it was cancelled on Tuesday. (Praise be, a lie-in!) So, no travelling for me this weekend. Instead, for today I booked with Funzing (through Funzing UK) - for a show called World Without Us, at Battersea Arts Centre. Gee, they're selling tickets for regular shows now! Way cheaper than the regular price, I must point out.. and that was before I applied the personal discount I got, for not having booked anything for a while.. even though I was outside the deadline for using it! :-)
Well, to begin with, I really enjoyed that lie-in! Had a very relaxed day, just venturing out for food, and remarking at the glorious sunshine and heat - I'll never get used to that. Didn't even need a coat - nor when I eventually left in the evening, but I took one with me for later. As to how I got there - well, once upon a time, two accommodations ago, this would've been within walking distance, but it was now a trek by bus and train. Just as well I left early, because the bus route was somewhat diverted.. arriving at the station, I had a peek at the departures board, saw that there was a train to Clapham Junction in four minutes from a nearby platform (they're very frequent), and duly made for it. And when I was comfortably sat on the train, I remarked to myself how very long it's been since I travelled this route, and how comfortable it is! But then, it wasn't rush hour..
Alighting at Clapham Junction, having lived there for a year, naturally I took the wrong exit. Never mind, I did know my way once outside, and how nostalgic it was to walk past all the shops. That was one of the great things about living there, the easy access to shopping. One of the not-so-great things awaited me just past the shops, where I had to put my lungs to the test by climbing Lavender Hill. Not quite cured yet, obviously, as I had to stop a few times to catch my breath - never for too long, though!
Battersea Arts Centre - the place I never, ever visited until I'd moved out of the area - is a converted council building, with a glorious marble staircase that you must climb to the theatre. There's a cafe downstairs, but I figured I didn't really have time. Downstairs we all huddled, though, until the lady came to clang the bell, disturbing an enormous black cat I hadn't noticed till then, who made a hasty exit. The stairs are gentle enough, so I didn't die, and as we went in I noticed a warning that there'd be 10 minutes of pitch blackness, and if you needed to leave during that time, you should raise your hand and an usher would help you. (Do they have night-vision goggles..?)
So, the stage is bare, apart from an obelisk-type thing - very interesting if you look closely, because it has teeny little staircases leading to an inner chamber with a mini-obelisk inside! Symbolic of something, no doubt. As we waited for the (slightly late - as usual) start, I mused how this crowd was like a flippin' cinema crowd; obviously, the cafe downstairs was selling nuts, and a number of people seated very close to me were crunching them away noisily. Including the guy beside me, towards whom I harboured strong homicidal tendencies. Honestly, I'd be embarrassed to make that much noise in any group of people! And I mean really, on a weekday I'd understand it, but why does a Saturday crowd feel the compulsion to eat at the theatre?! What, they couldn't eat before or after..?
After a bit, the performer came out - and once the lights started to go out, the nut-crunchers shut up, happily. Probably felt louder in the dark. Now, I'd been wondering how a world without humans would be portrayed - well, what this is, is a single narrator, who spends a bit over an hour telling us, in beautifully rendered prose, just what would happen. He doesn't bother explaining what's supposed to have happened to the humans - to hear him tell it, it seems as though they all just winked out of existence one day. But it's a fascinating and detailed description of what happens to our world - he starts from the perspective of the theatre, all the small creatures that start to get used to not being disturbed. He gives the poignant image of an aeroplane on autopilot, full of luggage but with no passengers or crew, flying ever onwards, overshooting its destination until it eventually runs out of fuel and crashes.
Nature gradually takes over, of course, and he gives a vivid account of that, describing all the wondrous creatures that roam former city streets. But the story continues way past that, right through centuries (which, as he points out, aren't counted any more), until (spoiler) the sun expands and engulfs the Earth. And what's left to show that we were ever here? Why, Voyager, of course! The space probe that was sent out with a record (literally) of humanity, samples of voices, pictures, snippets of music and so on. In fact, we get a taste of that at the start and end, with the start of the show consisting of people speaking greetings in all sorts of different languages (translated on a projection on the back wall), and pictures and sound at the end.
It isn't for everyone - someone left at the end of one of the dark sequences, and someone else walking down the hill behind me afterwards remarked to her partner that, "if it was a play, something should happen in it!" (Eh, centuries passed, and the sun engulfed the Earth - how much more did you want to happen?) But for me, I was entranced - of course, I'm used to this kind of performance, one person on stage telling a story, and for me it was both familiar and welcome. Beautifully told, and a fascinating story, starting with the familiar and moving to a grander scale. I note that a book with a similar name and theme was published some years back - I do wonder whether it was based on that? Thought-provoking and moving - I loved it. Highly recommended. Runs until next Saturday. Oh, and never fear - the darkest bit only lasts for a couple of minutes, and they still couldn't get that completely dark..
Afterwards, I was peckish, and found myself outside Panahar, the Indian restaurant I used to frequent around here. All right then.. with a couple of groups in, they could just about seat me, and with no butter chicken on the menu, I ordered a korma. And lamb samosas - it's been so long! And a peshwari naan - and, intrigued to see egg fried rice on an Indian menu, I had that too! And it was all delish - although the rice turned out to be pilau, and egg fried pilau struck me as a bit odd. Never mind. I was absolutely stuffed, and delighted I'd come - and gee, with the bill they present each person with an After Eight mint chocolate and a segmented orange, and each adult with a little glass of Bailey's! It's the little touches, you know - and I was so sorry that they didn't give me the opportunity to leave a tip on the machine, because I forgot to bring my Sterling cash from Ireland this time, damnit! Never mind..
Got the bus back to Waterloo - the journey was somewhat delayed when a group of young - Caribbean?-types got on and one, drunk or high, sauntered past the driver without paying. Well, he wasn't putting up with that, and despite the others being more co-operative, he put them all off and actually called the police - then called them back, down the road, to say that their services wouldn't actually be required. Oh, and I guess he'd had enough, because - with me the last on the bus - he made me get off and walk, one stop early. And at Waterloo, had the usual interminable wait for the #4, whose terminus is there - mind you, it says quite clearly on the stop that the bus only comes, late in the evening, three times an hour, so the Bus Countdown app should really get its story straight.
Chesty again this evening - I can only cough stuff up in the mornings. Tomorrow? Well, my regular Meetup groups have gone AWOL.. Ken's Events is doing something that sounds interesting: a walk from Queen's Park to Little Venice, for the Canal Cavalcade. Now,, I fancy neither joining a select group of 88 (!) others, nor paying £3 for the privilege - but I can mosey along myself, can't I? Be lovely in this weather..
For last night, I had signed up for free comedy in Hammersmith with Free Comedy Nights in Hammersmith Wimbledon and Farringdon, and London Live Comedy. But.. then I saw that Funzing UK had advertised Rising Stars: East England Burlesque Festival 2017. So I booked that instead - hey, I can get straight there on the Central Line! And I love burlesque. After booking, I got an email from them to point out that there are two events there that night, and that to avoid confusion, the name of mine has been changed to "Star Watch"..
Well, I had to stay late at work for a meeting - occupational hazard of working with California - and ended up heading straight for Leyton. (Ironic that I'm back on public transport so soon, and me in the middle of everything.) I did indeed get the Central Line straight to Leyton Station, then had a tortuous, twisty walk through housing estates to get to the Plough and Harrow. I'd never have figured it out on my own.. now ,with all the Wazeing I've been doing this month with the flat move, I've exceeded my data allowance, and had it on flight mode, so was absolutely delighted to see that it was still tracking me. Big Brother is good sometimes, eh? (I've uninstalled Waze now - it's really useful, but since it's just about impossible to switch off, if you don't have an unlimited data allowance, it's penurious.)
Finally, at the end of the road, I came across a large pub - which was it. Attached myself to the WiFi I suddenly came across, and - with no obvious indication of which entrance I should use - went in the first door I came to. Well, it was bedlam! I was quite early, and the performers were just primping and setting up in the bar area. Makeup, wigs, sequins.. I spotted a food menu on the bar, and had chosen by the time I spotted the landlady. With an Irish accent, she assured me that yes, they were doing food - I'd wondered, in this commotion - and found me the waiter. who said if I needed to pay by card, she'd take it - luckily, I had cash; this is another place that levies a fee for card use - under £15, in this case.
When someone appeared who vaguely looked like he was in charge - and stared at me inquisitively - I explained that I was there to watch, not perform. Ah, he said - would you mind going into the bar next door then? (pointing.) Eh, ok - I mean, I had got my wine by now, and there was this sign on the door saying not to take drinks outside.. sod it. So I strolled along till I found another door, and there was the main bar - gosh, just like what I remember of rural Irish pubs when I was a kid! A large room, kind of sparse - tables around the edges, a pool table in the corner, and most activity happening around the bar counter. Not many people schlepping about..
Then it occurred to me that I'd ordered my food in bar No. 1. There was someone different behind the bar here, and I couldn't see the people I'd ordered from before - oh God, I decided I'd better go back and find them. So I did - no sign of official person, but after a bit the Irish lady came through, and I explained to her what was happening. No problem, she said, she'd send it through. So I went back to bar No. 2 and took a table in the corner.. read the copy of the Sun that someone had left on the table.. perused the bookshelves I was sitting beside.. got a funny look from the waiter who recognised me from bar No. 1.. and waited for my dinner. Which took so long that I worried I'd miss the show. What the hey, I was hungry - and when my chicken burger came, it was delicious! I finished at about 8.10.
Trotted back into bar No. 1, where they still hadn't started - well, they were only 10 minutes late. Checked my name off the list, and the guy gave me a programme - with space to vote - and a pen. How organised is that! They really cared that you voted. There was also an app you could use for it, but it turned out I couldn't connect to the WiFi specifically designated for voting. Until the voting was over, and it got in the way of the other WiFi. Figures. Anyway, they also took paper offerings - as I say, very organised, all bases covered! I got another drink - v good value, at £4 - and found an unobtrusive seat near the front.
And we were off.. All human life was here - young, middle-aged, fat (most), thin, men in drag.. the compere asked who'd come the furthest, and the prize went to a large contingent from Sheffield, who'd booked the table just in front of me. They had a couple of young performers, who kept coming back to the table, and what looked like a blind man in drag, sitting at the side. Good on him for coming out!
And what a variety of acts. The night was split into four sections, five or six performers in each. The common factor was to strip, finally exposing the breasts, adorned with some kind of decoration (usually nipple tassels). A couple of people obviously didn't know what they were doing, but 10/10 for gumption. Certainly, the support was enthusiastic - I really thought I'd go deaf in one ear from the screams behind me - happily, they moved. To my right, there was a table of judges, and past them, an artist scurried about, creating beautiful drawings of the performers, presumably to be sold afterwards.
The soundtracks were excellent - classic rock and pop generally. While voting, I started to look for particular traits - a touch of cheekiness here, inventiveness there - moving to the music, gracefulness. And by the time the winners were announced, I didn't agree with all the results - but the judges did agree with me on the winner. Rushin Blue blew away all her competition, coming on in a simple 80s power suit - which she stripped out of, of course -and flinging herself about the stage in time to the music, in singularly the most energetic performance of the night. Quirky and inventive, she was completely mesmerising. Good luck to her! And it was great to hear that some of the performers got work out of the night.
As soon as the winners were announced, I legged it out of there - it had run quite late, and I was worried about making the last Tube, especially with such a convoluted walk ahead of me. Plus my phone battery was nearly dead - indeed, it had died by the time I got back into town - and I needed it for that walk. So off I scurried, onto glistening streets and past cars coated in ice, and was delighted not to have to wait around for long in the cold for a train. And so home, with a dead phone battery, and an irate mother leaving voicemails complaining about how I was leaving it so late to ring.
Tonight, I've signed up with London Speaks Sessions, London for a Tenner or Less, and LDN Talks @Night (or more particularly with Funzing) for a talk on The Science of Psychedelics.
Tomorrow, free comedy in Hammersmith, with Free Comedy Nights in Hammersmith Wimbledon and Farringdon, and London Live Comedy.
On Friday, I'm finally headed to The Comedy About a Bank Robbery, at the Criterion Theatre. Same team that did The Play That Goes Wrong - which is excellent - so I'm looking forward to this. Best value tickets from the venue.
On Saturday, I'm out with the Man with the Hat again, after an unusually long break - this time, it's Woolf Works, a Wayne McGregor triptych, inspired by the works of Virginia Woolf and showing at the Royal Opera House. Both his groups are going: London for Less Than a Tenner (note the difference with the group name above), and Let's Do London - for less! As usual, I have a cheap seat.
And on Sunday, the ever-busy Man with the Hat is headed (with Let's Do London - for less!) to a dance production - at Sadler's Wells, unusually for him. The Red Shoes, choreographed by Matthew Bourne, is completely sold out for its whole run. Our Man with the Hat has tickets, though.. but he held them back (under his hat, as you might say), with sales starting at 11am on New Year's Day. They sold out in 15 minutes - I checked. That's the speed of U2's ticket sales.. of course, being a seasoned purchaser of U2 tickets, I managed to get one. All he needs now are a stetson and some glasses.. (Mind you, I think U2 broke records this year for speed of selling out. U2 are touring, you see, and I have tickets. Purchasing still in progress. Watch this space..)
