it’s hot in the city…
And hello from my gloriously chilly Victoria pad – I’m feeling far better than I could have been, having made an executive decision upon my earlier arrival to bail in the direction of the 38 bus and the Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition, an old favourite of mine that I’ve not had chance to get to for a couple of years now.
I have many fond memories of the RA’s shady courtyard without and superior air conditioning within to go with the purchases from previous years hanging on my wall at home, and whilst this year I deliberately left it far too late for much of a choice when it came to snapping up remaining works, a stroll through the welcoming embrace of all that is British about art shows settled my frazzled nerves no end after enduring an overheated train ride apparently via the earth’s core when the onboard cooling systems struggled to keep up. Well, it made a pleasant change from Doncaster.
The weather also generated the unexpected yet welcome side effect of rendering York Railway Station a pleasant place to while away fifteen minutes, it being (as it always is, no matter what the time of year) at least twenty degrees colder than anywhere else. I’m certainly feeling better about having given up on the mini break idea thanks to a total lack of any suitable holidays at sensible prices, and the RA plus consecutive nights at the opera, cinema and restaurant table (TBC) will go some way towards allaying the bitter disappointment and kicking-myself frustration partly at this, but mostly at my lack of success in securing a ticket to the new swimming pond at Kings Cross (having predictably gone to book one over the weekend and decided to hang fire until I was sure of my plans – nice one, genius).
After an almost 100% record when it came to previous ticket-obtaining successes – no problems with Tom Waits, Beyoncé, the Hackney Weekend nor Glastonbury back in the day (actually the year the Stone Roses cancelled) complacency had set in but when it came to ponds I was thwarted, although I suspect the weather may have had something to do with the rush. Next time lucky – fingers crossed that August is warm too, although anybody who knows me will know I don’t need telling twice that a body of water is there to immerse oneself in (which is another reason why it’s both a good and a bad job that I live at the seaside). Those photos were taken in April at 6am, don’t forget.
It was a far more restful Glastonbury weekend this year thanks largely to the BBC coverage and also last Sunday’s exemplary lineup; I happily made do with singing along to Lionel Richie on the settee, getting a bit misty-eyed to Paul Weller and then throwing a few shapes with the fishes to the Chemical Brothers (seriously, how good were the Chemical Brothers?) all in the comfort of the living room – bliss. Whilst goldfish, being fish, don’t get misty-eyed and as far as I know are not remotely sentimental, they’re definitely not averse to some big beats.
Back to the current status, and the last availability in London will indeed be Saturday morning as we now know it’s 12pm for FrightFest passes – faffing and dithering over. I will be back in Scarborough and normal business resumed on Monday 6th. Probably. I may yet decide on an extra day off to take advantage of the beach whilst we still have one with some space on it, but all will be revealed at the weekend.
More soon! Londoners, will hope to see you in the week…
Subscribe to blog feed.
About the Author: