Thursday
The evening was bootleggylicious as David, Jonathan, Scally and I squeezed ourselves into the phonebooth-sized Asylum to watch "King of the Boots" - a monthly bootleg mash-up [photos here]. And I do declare, a fun time was had by all! Some excellent new boots were played but, as I predicted to David at the time, I was completely unable to recall any of them the next day and I still remain at a loss now - a notebook may be in order next time (yes, this whole pursuit is very trainspotty, as folk have previously pointed out).
Friday
Day off = bliss. Roused myself in time to head over to Trailfinders in Kensington and managed to nab a fantastic deal on flights home via the States: London - New York - San Francisco - Portland, then Vancouver - Los Angeles (connecting) - Auckland - Wellington, all for a relatively measly £550. Bargain! A detailed itinerary will appear soon, when I get my A into G and hiff some travelogue pages up. Earlier in the week, Melissa had invited a bunch of us over to check out her new design company's space at Westbourne Studios, and since I was in da 'hood I decided to take her offer up. Apparently only creative companies are allowed to rent space there and this has given rise to a fairly eclectic mix of tenants - jewellery designers, custom bicycle manufacturers, independent music labels, greeting card companies, architects and such. The entrance gives way to an impressive atrium, complete with screening room and, more importantly, a fantastic café/bar where we ensconsced ourselves for the evening ... idly drinking and chatting and catching fleeting whiffs of certain combustible illicit substances ("Is that ...";"Yes, it is ..."). Ya just gotta love those creative types.
Saturday
More pottering around the house before putting some new glad rags on and helping Nick H celebrate his twenty-eighth birthday at The Edge (now with comfy sofas! (dropped-at-birth barmen still present)) and The Village (complete with gyrating pole-dancers of dubious legal age! (yuck)). Also present were Twom (before he ponced off home) and the delightful Shahar and Mads (God, I feel like air-kissing just typing those names). I was quite well behaved alcohol-wise, knowing full well that the next day would bring ...
Sunday
A visit to the now legendary Royal Vauxhall Tavern. I was instructed to appear between five and five-thirty and appear then I did ... before promptly summoning Jonathan to retrieve me from the morass of tube exits, intersections, overbridges and underpasses that comprise the Vauxhall area. Ian fronted up at the same time with a dash of friendly advice ("The money goes in this hand and the wrist band goes on that hand ...") and with that, we were into it. Coats in, beers purchased, David and Marcus met, raised possie taken, Scally found and now, on with the show!
The lads didn't think it was one of her better shows but to this first timer "The Dame Edna Experience" was pretty damn good. An excellent comedian(enne) and mimic, "Edna" alternated the crowd between fits of laughter and outbursts of song (and several beers down by that point ensured that even I was joining in the latter as well). Of course, Will Popidol's weekend coming out was on the agenda ("But children have bought his records! He's been touring schools!") and was handled in a rather restrained fashion I thought! (given the vitriol that I've heard she can dish out on occasion). The lovely Dave was met - at last! - as we milled around by the door and several other blog/meeja-type people were pointed out during the course of the evening. Then it was time for the Almighty set and it was tops off all round ... well ... mostly. Your humble author restrained himself but managed to loosen a few buttons in the spirit of the occasion (I didn't want to frighten the natives too much you understand). When it all got a bit too much, we decamped to Duke's for seats and a tad more breathing space before I rapidly excused myself ... on the grounds that I'd had one too many as it was and they decided to catch up with me all at once. Hate it when that happens. An abrupt end to an otherwise fun-filled evening!
Now, do yourself a favour and go read David's excellent "The A to Z of the Royal Vauxhall Tavern" - he's summed the whole experience up much better than I could ever hope to.
‹ 12.3.02
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