Monday, 26 June 2017

Don't speak...

Well, what a fun-packed weekend that was.  Apologies for not putting a blog up yesterday, but copious amounts of Prosecco has a strange effect on my typing ability. You might have thought that I had invented a new language, my spelling would have been that atrocious.

We had a great time at Bat out of Hell (  I wasn't too sure what to expect, but we were all blown away by it.  I had the dubious pleasure of sitting next to the most hardcore Meatloaf fan I have ever met (I thought I was bad, but he knocked me into a cocked hat).  He sang (badly) to every song (loudly) and tapped his beige cords in time to the music. His partner, who looked like she was there under duress, kept looking at me and raising her eyes as he waxed lyrical about Meatloaf before the show started.  Unfortunately, when half an hour in, my neighbour and I were singing the boy and girl parts in Paradise by the Dashboard Light in perfect harmony, she realised that the eye raising was completely wasted on me.  The Mother and Miss R, also huge fans of Meatloaf passed the three hours with manic grins.  These could have been down to the Prosecco, but I like to think that like me, they were spellbound.

Falling out of the theatre, we then headed to a restaurant I had picked after trawling through Tripadvisor.  Although several of the meals were lovely, some were not, and I came to the conclusion that the reviews I had read were all written by family members and staff.  Money had probably changed hands, as the promise of a free meal might not have been enough to get the required responses.  Mind you, the Honeycomb Cheesecake wiped out everything which had gone before.  That was amazing, and I forgave them the cold steaks and over salty scallops...

Saying farewell to The Mother and Miss R, the husband and I walked back to our hotel, a bijoux little affair created of black rubber and subdued lighting.  I did wonder whether I'd booked some fetish hotel in error, but on this occasion, Tripadvisor had come up trumps. 

After breakfast, the husband suggested a 'stroll' though Hyde Park.   Well, this sounded perfect (I needed to walk off the blueberry pancakes I had inhaled for breakfast).  It was lovely walking through the Park, and we finally ended up at Speakers' Corner to watch various lunatics having slanging matches with the general public.  Sitting in a couple of deckchairs drinking our well-earned coffees, we sat and watched as Free Speech reached a zenith with one particular zealot stating, 'You are a good example of an extremely bad example of a human being'.  Little harsh I felt.  All the oral contributor had suggested was that perhaps the orator was a little deluded when he said that science didn't exist.  Each to their own I suppose.

So having 'strolled' for three hours, my poor old feet were not happy.  And when the husband suggested we head for home, me and the feet breathed a small sigh of relief. We walked through gardens, up roads, down paths and through shopping areas, and the husband kept saying, 'Not far now'.

The husband was a liar...

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