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Life is *hard*, peoples.
Sep. 13th, 2009 01:50 pmSaturday was a disgustingly stressful day.
I mean, seriously, I was forced to go and meander around the Thames Festival and look at stalls and food stalls and go 'oooo' at jewellery. And watch breakdancers and football keepie-uppers and a mad frenchman stripping on a trapeze, *then* relax with a tray of paella (which I'll admit wasn't great but filled a spot) and people and river-watch. to quote the bloke next to me 'It's 7pm, I'm on the Southbank, not a cloud in the sky, people-watching and drinking. Life is hard.'
The olive people had a stall, so got a large punnet from there for theatre nibbles. far more civilised than rustling chocolate.
Slightly peeved that I didn't get to see the fire garden or some of the acts, but they weren't going to start until the sun had gone down because of this piddling little thing where lights and fire are easier to see when it's dark. pah, laws of nature. What do they know?
Caught the tube up to Regents' Park, meandered up through the park to the theatre, collected ticket, then forced to listen to live jazz from cute boys whilst munching on mozzarella balls. Only failing of the Open Air Theatre bar is their lack of bar staff pre-going in, so trying to get a drink is bloody frustrating. We require our wine and G&T and Pimms to take in, dammit! Not all of us bring our own wine bottles. (though I have to give props to the group next to me who brought the wine *and* a fruit flan, cream and strawberries for the interval)
Hello Dolly was fun, utterly fluffy, with a cast that were clearly enjoying themselves something chronic. Silly banter, shallow as a champagne puddle songs, clerks hiding in cupboards sequences, giant song and dance sequences of tap and polka and waltz and a really gorgeous performance of 'It Only Takes a Moment'. 'Put on Your Sunday Clothes' was a real bounce, and 'Hello Dolly' was a vision of red, feathers, waiters and staircases. As it should be.
I mean, seriously, I was forced to go and meander around the Thames Festival and look at stalls and food stalls and go 'oooo' at jewellery. And watch breakdancers and football keepie-uppers and a mad frenchman stripping on a trapeze, *then* relax with a tray of paella (which I'll admit wasn't great but filled a spot) and people and river-watch. to quote the bloke next to me 'It's 7pm, I'm on the Southbank, not a cloud in the sky, people-watching and drinking. Life is hard.'
The olive people had a stall, so got a large punnet from there for theatre nibbles. far more civilised than rustling chocolate.
Slightly peeved that I didn't get to see the fire garden or some of the acts, but they weren't going to start until the sun had gone down because of this piddling little thing where lights and fire are easier to see when it's dark. pah, laws of nature. What do they know?
Caught the tube up to Regents' Park, meandered up through the park to the theatre, collected ticket, then forced to listen to live jazz from cute boys whilst munching on mozzarella balls. Only failing of the Open Air Theatre bar is their lack of bar staff pre-going in, so trying to get a drink is bloody frustrating. We require our wine and G&T and Pimms to take in, dammit! Not all of us bring our own wine bottles. (though I have to give props to the group next to me who brought the wine *and* a fruit flan, cream and strawberries for the interval)
Hello Dolly was fun, utterly fluffy, with a cast that were clearly enjoying themselves something chronic. Silly banter, shallow as a champagne puddle songs, clerks hiding in cupboards sequences, giant song and dance sequences of tap and polka and waltz and a really gorgeous performance of 'It Only Takes a Moment'. 'Put on Your Sunday Clothes' was a real bounce, and 'Hello Dolly' was a vision of red, feathers, waiters and staircases. As it should be.
