The problem with London (reprise)

Good things about this week: plenty of fun was had. Friends, music, champagne and similar. All good.

Bad things about this week: hm, let's see; going out, you say? In London? Of an evening?

Oh yes. The Curse of the Public Transport of Evil strikes again.

Case study no 1: a delightful burlesque show in Holborn. Well, sort of delightful. The audience — all decked out in fishnets and corsets, frock coats and trilbies* — looked marvellous. It's hard to critique the performances, because we couldn't see them. Being standing tickets only and all. And with half the audience in high heels and big feathery hats. Hm... maybe they should have thought that one through.** Anyway, so the show happened, and the top half of the performers looked very pretty, and then we got to hobble off home — an hour late, thanks to the ridiculously late start. So we'd missed the last train. Thanks, chaps.

Case study no 2: the very delightful Scissor Sisters at Wembley. Fabulous show, I have no complaints there. And we should have made the last train, too, except that I spent five minutes trying to find a bus that would take us home instead. It just seemed to make so much geographical sense: Wembley being west-north-west, home being west-south-west. But no. So, two hours spent getting back into town and then back out of town, when we could have driven home in 20 minutes. Huh.

Case study no 3: the quite wonderful sociable dinner at friend's home. I was due there around 5.45 and the journey should have been straightforward. But a lorry went into a bridge somewhere nowhere near my destination, throwing out the entire train network (so we were told; though from later stages of the journey, I have reason to doubt the integrity of this information). So, one tube and two trains later, I arrived at 7pm. To get home again: left at 11pm, to get one train, one tube and another train... and then, as it turned out, a rail replacement bus, thanks to engineering works.

Now I realise this is about as dull as blogging gets, and I swear to shut the hell up about trains from now on. It's just that the fun does rather go out of having fun when you spend twice as long getting there and back as you do at the event.

Still, though. A lovely week. Which also included a very delicious and civilised dinner with jazzy cabaret, from which we got home in reasonable time. Hurrah! It can be done!

_____
* Not usually on the same person.
** Quite apart from the visibility problem: high heels. Standing tickets. Show starting an hour late. Really, Ms Blaize. That was just mean.