So, it was school half-term holidays and we had a weekend in London and a few days at our home in Gloucester.
The trip to London was great, even though DW was there for work. Still, we took in a show: Avenue Q – not the most mature choice, I grant you, but, hey!, great fun. I spent the first 20 minutes grinning at the stage like a simpleton. Got a sharp reminder that we were in London when we ordered our half-time drinks. “Two gin & tonics, please.” “Singles or doubles?” We’re here to have fun so we order doubles. “That will be £13.50, please, sir.” £13.50! (That's $27!) You wouldn’t pay that for a tray-full of drinks round our way, I can tell you!
Our other London moment: we’re walking around theatreland and see an old bloke pressing the intercom on the door to get in to some building or other: “Hello? Is there somebody there?” I recognise the voice, but before I can put a name to it, he says to the unseen doorkeeper, “It’s Donald Sinden…” And it was. Sorry to be impressed, but I am.
I have Saturday to myself, as DW is working until 5:00pm, so I do something I would only do on my own: I visit the Museum of Methodism. Yes, there is one and it’s in City Road in the crypt of the chapel that John Wesley built in 1778 as his London base. You also get to walk around the house where he spent the last years of his life and where he died. Highlights include standing in the pulpit from which John and Charles preached, seeing John’s gown (he was 5’ 4” tall, you know) and Charles’s organ (Oooh! No, Matron!). I stand at John’s grave (and later buy a postcard of it. Is that weird?) His mother is buried in the Dissenters’ graveyard over the road and lies alongside other non-conformists: Daniel Defoe, John Bunyan and William Blake.
I also got to use the oldest working toilets in London: they bear the illustrious Crapper name on the bowl and cistern. And they do work.
Saturday evening we had dinner with friends and a splendid time was had.
On Sunday morning, as we didn’t have to go to church we did something quasi-religious: we went to the V&A to see the Kylie exhibition. She’s tiny, you know, Kylie. Saw her gold hotpants and the Showgirls tour costumes and that white cat suit thing from that video. Bought another postcard.
Spent the rest of the week (it was school half-term holidays, you know) in Gloucester, my home town. Visited St Mary-de-Crypt and stood in the pulpit from which George Whitefield preached. (He was a contemporary of the Wesleys and very influential on John, and had the greater impact in his day. And he was born and brought up in Gloucester. His parents had the Old Bell Inn in Southgate Street. He’s not much celebrated in Gloucester, sadly.)
Also did the Cathedral, obviously, including an exhibition about the extraordinary east window; had a cream tea in Bourton-on-the-water and visited the farm where Diana Smart makes the Double Gloucester cheeses that they roll down Cooper’s Hill. She also makes Single Gloucester – one of only four places that has the (cheese-making equivalent of) appellation controlee for Single Gloucester.
You see, we know how to have fun!
Deep joy,
Stratocastermagic
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