Parklife...

'Forty eight quid?....forty eight quid?...FORTY EIGHT BLOODY QUID!'

This is all I have heard from the husband over the past twenty four hours.  Let me explain.

We went to London yesterday to see the new Only Fools and Horses musical.  I bought two tickets for the husband's birthday, and I was genuinely thrilled that he decided that he wanted me to come with him.  After the lack of care I gave him last week when he was at Death's door, I wouldn't have blamed him for taking any random stranger he may have come across between here and the theatre door.

So after the usual Saturday family breakfast, we left the woofers in Miss R's more than capable hands and headed off to London.  The husband always likes to point out various landmarks on the way, and this always gives me the opportunity for a small snoozle while he's doing his best impression of a coach tour guide as no response is required.

Half way there we remembered the march which was taking place through London.  'I doubt it will effect us too much', said the husband immediately before we came to a grinding halt about two miles outside of where we needed to be.

He decided that we would park outside of town, and walk in, thus avoiding the queues.  Surprisingly, the car park was almost empty, so having parked up, we put our best feet forward and schlepped to the theatre.

Now the husband and I are not particularly political animals, preferring a quiet life, but it was a fight of the worst type to get through one million people to reach the theatre. We had to limbo under rope barriers, squeeze down skinny alleys and hop, skip and jump on and off pavements, finally reaching the theatre with a couple of minutes to spare.

The show was fantastic - go and see it if you can - and after laughing our socks off for a couple of hours, we walked the two miles back to the car park. The car park was still empty, and the husband fed the ticket into the machine.  'Forty eight quid?'

He's still going on about it.

Probably explained why it was so bloody quiet in there...


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

It's raining men...

Ain't no mountain high enough...

Diary...