Both Ends of the Spectrum Part 1

For some reason I feel compelled to express some sort of negativity about early starts to my trips. I don't know why; it is my choice to do this as it gives me more time in my chosen destination on that first day. Yes, it's a slight inconvenience in getting up, sometimes, in the middle of the night, but there is certainly nothing negative about it.

So, as my alarm rattles off at 04:45, I pull a face and wish, for a split second, that I could have another hour in bed. That wish passes as soon as it came and I'm up and into the bathroom for shaved head and face, brushed teeth and a shower to wake me up. Dressed, in the car and on the road for 05:30 as planned.

Google Maps had predicted 5h 15m for this journey yesterday but, at this time of the day, that forecast has gone down to less than 5 hours. Of course, with a couple of stops on the way and, more than likely, a traffic queue at some point, that time will extend, but even 6 hours will get me to my first destination in plenty of time.

I have used the JustPark app to procure a driveway in Ealing. This has cost just £18 and ensures that I don't have to pay a ridiculous amount for parking in the City, nor the equally ridiculous Congestion Charge. 2 weeks ago, I had to pay for 2 days congestion charge, even though I was parked just inside the boundary and spent about 10 minutes driving within the zone. Absolute rip off. Anyway, this time it doesn't matter.

I arrive at the drive in the leafy suburb of Ealing at almost exactly 11:30; Dan adjustments to Google forecast are spot on. I congratulate myself and set off for North Ealing station to catch the Piccadilly Line to Covent Garden, a journey time of approximately 35 minutes. (Edit note: I never before realised that Piccadilly has 2 Cs!!)

#1 glitch for the day - Transport for London have decided to throw a bit of a spanner into my works as there is disruption along the line and this train actually terminates after 2 stops. I look at the tube map and with a hasty calculation, decide to get off after 1 stop at Ealing Common and catch the District Line to Temple and stroll for 10 minutes to the Royal Opera House. This revised plan has me arriving not long after 12:30 and gives me plenty of time to check my back pack into the cloakroom (no charge) and order a can of IPA (big charge) before collecting my pre-ordered programme and heading for my seat.

Although I am in the upper circle, my seat is right at the front and, almost right in the centre. The leg space isn't great, nor is the seat size, but it is an excellent view of what will shortly unfold.

<PIC - SHOW VIEW)

What shortly unfolds is a marvellous spectacle. As has been advertised, this is my first ever ballet and I really have no idea what to expect. The music, the staging, the dancing and the ambience are all excellent and I am engrossed. The early morning has started to catch up with me but I fight the urge to have a nap (I knew there was a downside to early starts!!) as I do not want to miss a minute of this. 

All too soon, after Mercutio has been dancing around, winding people up, Tybalt has been starting on anyone who fancies a go and the eponymous lovers have made the first steps to becoming eponymous lovers, the curtain comes down for the end of Act 1.

I resist heading for the bar for another £7 for 300ml  of IPA and use the interval to have a look through my programme and stretch my legs. The bell soon sounds for the impending start of Act 2 and I make my way back to my seat. As I am not in anyone's way, I decide to remain standing for as long as possible. The seat is the only downer of the experience so far so I want to limit my time in it. My immediate seat neighbours are chatting away so I don't feel at all rude.

The stand seems to be going on for a while longer that expected and there is an air of uncertainty whistling around the theatre. Eventually, the director of the opera house comes on stage to announce that there is a technical hitch as they can't raise the main curtain. He says they are doing their utmost to get it working and will keep us informed. This has crowd agitation afoot with a lot of "what will become of us...?" conversations starting. I don't engage at this time, preferring to stay standing.

Director returns to the stage and the crown immediately sense that it is not good news. They now have a specialist curtain engineer on the case and it is now his turn to do his utmost. Director asks us to give them another 15 minutes and he will, hopefully, be back with some good news. 15 minutes turns in to 20 before Director is back with worrying news. The engineer's utmost has, so far, come to nought. Director starts mentioning refunds, which doesn't bode well, but asks for another 10 minutes, after which there will be an absolute decision. It is to the crowd's credit that this, and the previous announcement, is given a round of applause. You could say it's not his fault but do they not have a maintenance routine for this integral piece of kit?

The crowd continue to chatter and I overhear my immediate neighbour tell the couple next to her that she has already had one excursion cut short on her trip to London. I naturally exclaim that she is a jinx!! Brits tend not to get offended by that sort of banter remark and I am invited into their conversation. Turns out that my neighbour and I are both attending our first ballet. Her main purpose for coming to London is to see Eric Clapton, for the umpteenth time, at the Albert Hall. I tell her my purpose and am then invited to regale all three of my neighbours of the concept of the 60 before 60 endeavour. They say I am inspirations, which of course I am, but I laugh that off with a chuckle, a "no, no, no" and a mocking wave of the hand.

The Director saves me from trying to remember all 60 activities to come on stage for the final time to announce the passing of this performance and the comforting news that I will get my £108 refunded. I say goodbye to my new friends and head off to the nearest pub to begin spending my refund that I won't actually get for about another 7 days. But I'm not one to be dragged back by technicalities and straight into the Marquess of Anglesey (seems only right) and have a pint of Proper Job for 20p less than the piffly can across the road. The Marquess has a roof terrace, which I head towards, only to find out that it is reserved for a private party.

I decide to delay check in at the hostel in order to have a pint at the Punch and Judy pub in Covent Garden square. The last time I was here was 9 years ago and I remarked at the time that the prices were somewhat steep. It is a good place to observe the goings on in the market place, including various performers so I was content, not overjoyed, at the £8.05 charged for a pint. The balcony edge seats, for a plum view, were all taken up but I didn't manage to get a stool a little further back, so could at least hear what was going on even if I couldn't see everything.

After the disappointment of the one act ballet, I have decided to name my drinking "The Sorrows Drowning Tour" sponsored by The Royal Opera House. I decide to check in to the hostel and have a power nap before taking my raging thirst onto the streets of the capital. This proves to be a dagger in the heart of the plan as I awake and find the desire to 'get on it' has evaporated. 

A new plan develops, where I will continue on a cultural them by going to see Oliver at the Gieldgud Theatre down the road. This selection falls flat when finding that the only seats that I am prepared to pay for, all have limited views. Sort of defeats the object!!  The plan is revised and, after a time estimate I settle for booking a seat at the local Vue cinema for the latest Mission Impossible spectacular, with enough time to get some dinner first. I decide Chinatown will be the area with a restaurant chosen on the hoof.