living for the city
I am finally home and feeling very relaxed and refreshed following my London visit; a fine time was had by (hopefully) all! Hotel fabulous, great area (although I will admit to eating far more sausages than is good for anyone, being as I was situated close to the legendary Smithfield market). I am glad to report that even the weather behaved itself!
As well as entertaining some truly delightful and handsome callers (with the obligatory single arrogant, whiny, timewasting exception to make all the others look better; you will be pleased to hear that the gentleman in question now knows, in addition to everything else on earth apparently, what it is like to be turned down by a prostitute), I have enjoyed a leisurely trip to the Tate Modern via the wobbly bridge, char sui and noodles in Chinatown, plus a star-studded evening at Somerset House watching the wonderful Slumdog Millionaire under the (thankfully rain-free) night sky, which certainly went some way to making up for my non-opera in Paris the other week.
Another real highlight was a visit to the Young Vic for some busman’s holiday fun in the form of The Girlfriend Experience, although it appears this may not be for the too faint-hearted judging by the reactions of some of the trying-desperately-hard-not-to-look-shocked-because-we’re-really-very-liberal audience members, particularly during discussions on hardsports and bizarrely, breast relief (which I kindly explained to a couple of earnest and quizzical looking student types, lest they ever need to know the difference between a ‘tit wank’, and a ‘tit f*ck’).
The play is actually composed of a series of recorded conversations between ladies at a Bournemouth brothel, played to the actors through headphones and then relayed immediately to the audience, and whilst the setting may be a little more down at heel then many are used to, it is certainly realistic (even down to the tidy-up nappy sacks, of which I remember thinking the blue ones used for the performance were far more attractive than my orange ones, which smell like cheap pot pourri and don’t go with anything). I left with a smile and a spring in my step and even arranged an impromptu liaison for later on that evening, having missed five calls during the performance from a persistent New York gentleman who fortunately turned out to be very much worth staying up for!
All in all, a very successful visit and yet again, to those who couldn’t make it, I will be back soon – I have this year’s acquisition from the RA Summer Exhibition to collect at some point in the next few weeks and am therefore likely to be returning sooner rather than later. Proposed dates are 6th – 10th September but will confirm as soon as organised! Area likely to be the same again – pleasant, easily reachable and most importantly of all, a stones throw from the sausages.
Meanwhile, back in sunny Scarborough (and today at least, it is) I am planning a low key few days; quite apart from anything else most of my fancier lady-attire is either in the wash or drying nicely on the bannisters (after being squashed up and dumped unceremoniously back in my suitcase in the mad scramble to catch the midday train). I am feeling quite the model of domesticity and have spent an industrious morning pairing stockings, inventorying sundries and putting the various other tools of my trade through the Milton fluid. Having run riot around the M&S food hall in a wild-eyed and semi-starved frenzy immediately after getting home, actual food preparation will not be necessary for another day or two and I plan a day of post trip settee-languishing tomorrow. Normal service will be resumed on Monday!