Tuesday, October 4 2005, 21:33

A weekend in the Toon

Foolishly, some of us went to Popstarz on Friday night, so we only had about two or three hours' sleep before getting up for our 8.15 train to Newcastle on Saturday. Getting John moving at that time was all the challenge everyone said it would be, but we were still at King's Cross with time to buy breakfast before our train left.

Our carriage (unlike those each side of it) was largely deserted, and we put this down to the fact that we were probably loud and obnoxious, and our conversation was undoubtedly in bad taste. I didn't notice, but one family, as they evacuated our carriage, remarked loudly enough for Debs and Chris to hear that we were "objectionable". The beers were out before 9am, so this was probably true.

Three hours or so flew by, and before we knew it, Beth's parents were generously picking us up at the station and ferrying us to our Formule 1 hotel, which is the most basic of accommodations, but perfectly comfortable and inexpensive. A quick snack on some delicious home-made pies from Beth's mum's pie shop, and we were off on the Metro to centre of the Toon.

Saturday was a mostly clear and sunny day, and we wandered around Newcastle's imposing Georgian sandstone buildings in the city centre, explored its arcades, and bought coffee. We had a quick look inside St Nicholas' Cathedral before heading over to our preferred place of worship: a bar. While Beth spent the time with her dad, we scoffed chips and drank mojitos in a groovy little bar/diner called Popolo.

Dinner that evening was in Coco Mo's before heading out to the bars where we discovered that Beth has lots of female friends, no doubt to balance all her male friends in London, and we had drinks with them in Destination, then North Bar, and Camp David, before heading to Digital, which Beth had shiftily assured us was a "mixed" venue, although this must have meant that it would be mixed as a result of our arrival! Time flew by, and before we knew it, we were in the queue for the taxi at 3.30am, with a 10am check-out to come.

I slept quite restlessly, but at least my sleep wasn't interrupted by John's phone alarm, which he'd cunningly left in the room where Mikey, Beth, and Debs were sleeping. The fact that they sent Beth to find the phone in the middle of the night illustrates just how confused they must have been...

Beth's mum, Sue, and her husband, Ron, picked us up again after check-out and ferried us back to their home, where Sue had prepared sausage and bacon sandwiches, which Mikey still managed to devour despite only being able to open his mouth a crack due to recent dental surgery. Sue's hospitality was fantastic, and I get the feeling that if we'd spent any amount of time in her care, even the svelte Chris would end up as portly as Beth's dog, Tess...

After our late breakfast, we dropped Chris off at the station, and we headed over to the quays area. On our way to the pub(!), we cooed at the Sydney Harbour Bridge's inspiration, watched the Swing Bridge swing, and the Gateshead Millennium Bridge winked at us as we walked along the Tyne. I'm gutted that I didn't get a snap of the quirky lady who tried to sell us charms and tell our fortunes, but she looked like she could have me, so I didn't want to risk offending her. We spent a couple of hours exploring the quays, taking in the Baltic Mill, a refurbished warehouse that's now a contemporary arts centre, and Sage Gateshead, another Norman Foster creation that looks like a bubble of mercury glistening on the Gateshead bank of the Tyne.

We strolled back to the area near the station for drinks and a meal at Revolution, which is a beautiful old bank building, complete with thirty foot ceilings, marble columns, and elaborate wood fittings. We sat back while Debs patronised our waiter, who later got our order wrong and prompted an Oscar-worthy performance from Beth, who got a plate of meaty nachos by mistake. Mortified, he halved our bill, which was rather convenient.

I'm not one to use clichés (unless they're good), but all good things come to an end, and we had a train to catch back down to the Big Smell, and the guys fought over each other to have photos taken with Sue outside our train before we piled in to discover that our reservations were worth nothing, and our seats were weighed down by eight fat Yorkshire ladies who refused to budge (maybe they were physically incapable). Sadly, we missed the view of the bridges lit up by night, but by York we were in our rightful seats, and we were well on the way to London and being plastered by the time Simon shot a champagne cork at the ceiling...

All in all a good weekend, although no-one even once called me "pet" :(

Pictures from Newcastle

Wednesday, October 12 2005, 15:04

Two nights at the theatre

It was Mikey's birthday on Monday, although he officially celebrated it the Saturday before, conjoined with one last fling on the town before he, Simon, and Beth head off on their travels this weekend. We are all officially now twenty-four hour party people. And I have the bags under my eyes to prove it...

Ironically, Tuesday was the day that Mikey took me out for my birthday treat (my birthday goes on for the longest time!) to see We Will Rock You at the Dominion Theatre. It was spectacular! It's Mamma Mia with Queen songs, and very enjoyable. Obviously, audience participation was expected for We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions, but the Strongbows that had made me dash for the toilet in the first half made sure I was more than happy to wave my arms - even if it meant occasionally batting the middle-aged woman next to me, who didn't seem to realise she was waving the wrong way...

Not content with one trip to the theatre, I went with John on Wednesday to see High Society at the Shaftesbury Theatre, starring the ever-smiling Jerry Hall. The publicity for the show might have given you the impression that she had a large role, but it was not the case - and just as well since she can't sing, and her acting consists of that pose she's perfected for the camera lens over the last thirty years - semi-slouch with hand on hip, and lips drawn back over that trademark smile. Still, it was enjoyable enough, if the dialogue did go on a bit. Wednesday turned out to be the only evening of the last seven days that wasn't Mikey-Simon-and-Beth themed - something which is going to be the norm from now on :(

Sunday, October 16 2005, 18:46

Parting is such sweet sorrow

I don't think any of us ever thought that our goodbyes to our three jet-setting amigos would actually drag on into another day, having drawn them out for a whole seven days, but that's how it turned out. But I'm starting at the end, instead of the beginning...

Last Saturday was the big send-off party that went into Sunday. Monday night was a small group of us having an Indian meal off Brick Lane, Tuesday was the musical with Mikey, and then Thursday was an impromptu drinks fest at All Bar One, and Friday was a few people over at mine for a game of Articulate before the big day on Saturday. All this frantic socialising reveals a group of friends that will miss three of their number very much as they go off on their big trip - and maybe also an inability to deal with short goodbyes ;) This weekend, Simon, Beth, and Mikey jet off to Thailand, eventually followed by Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, and finally Australia - where they will head down through the Whitsundays to Sydney for Christmas and New Year. They couldn't have picked a better time, as London gradually returns to the cold, wet, and grey. Winter will seem an even less cheerful time than usual without them.

We were to meet at Paddington at 5pm on Saturday, but Beth was her usual hour late, and we gave up waiting for Mikey and just met him at Heathrow. Normal people get onto their flights with a little excitement, and maybe a few things going wrong. The passengers on their flight yesterday were offered £413 each to fly tonight instead; they'd have to wait to see if they'd be accepted as volunteers to be put up in the Hilton, and it meant the culmination to this week of goodbyes would be rather diminished. We watched them wrangling with each other in the check-in queue and we could see the frustration and anti-climax written all over their faces, but they finally listened to us and their wallets and took the chance. This side of passport control is a rather dull area to wait, but we killed two hours quickly and waited nervously like nominees at an Oscar ceremony to see if they'd been picked. There was a brief frisson of disappointment when Mikey and Beth misheard some other passengers' names who were not bumped until Sunday, but finally we learned that they had indeed got the cash and this announcement was greeted with gasps and pearl-clutching worthy of television, and especially an overreaction of Pop Idol quality from Simon!

And so we said our goodbyes on the Heathrow Express in those four minutes between terminals four and three, as they headed to their hotel for the night, £1209 richer, and we headed home, three friends poorer. Even though I knew they were as gone from me as if I'd seen their plane flying away with them in it, it just didn't seem real, and they just don't seem gone. I guess it won't seem that way until 10pm tonight, when I know they're finally on their way. In uncharacteristic fashion, I didn't shed a single tear - I saved them all for John's shoulder later.

Simon will return in three months, poor bugger, deposited onto a freezing runway after basking in an Australian summer, and having said goodbye to the other two - but hopefully just as energetic and full of smiles despite that. Beth is away for a whole year, which is almost exactly how long I've known her, although it feels like much longer. I hope her year there proves to be all the adventure mine did, and while I wish her all the best, I'm going to miss her raucous laugh and bubbly, incisive humour, her emotional outbursts and perceptive and reliable friendship. I hope to make it to Sydney while she's still there.

Mikey (in true Mikey fashion) doesn't have a plan: he's just going. Indefinitely. For a while this year, it seemed like we did everything together, and I have some A1 memories to cling onto: rollerblading around Greenwich Park or Canary Wharf; sunbathing on Bondi Beach; liloing through the Blue Mountains with him and James; enjoying our best party ever at Toybox in Sydney; singing smashed in the Vauxhall Tavern or flat on the grass behind it; staggering on the London Pride Run with him egging me on all the way; cooking him food that's too hot for him; Kath & Kim jokes galore; a whole year's worth of boyfriend dramas ;) and of course any number of occasions in various clubs, smiling like fools, drenched in sweat, dancing with my arms around my fun-loving, affectionate friend, Mikey.

Bon voyage, guys. You know we're all thinking of you.
xxx

Photos from All Bar One

Wednesday, October 19 2005, 15:53

Out with reindeer, I want polar bears pulling my sleigh...

I was walking home on Monday when I realised that winter is well and upon us. The sky was completely dark, there was a bite in the air, and my steaming breath caught the lamplight as I walked underneath. It's easy to forget that there's a lot to like about winter, especially when my thoughts at the moment are frequently with three friends basking in the Thai sunshine. Simon, who returns in January, will be the only one of them not chuffed to read that it's predicted that this winter in London and the South East will be the coldest in forty years.

With such a freeze hanging over us, it's entirely appropriate that the new film based on CS Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is released in December. You might remember that the White Witch's spell makes it always winter in Narnia, but never Christmas - a prospect fairly daunting when you consider that without the festive season to look forward to, we'd probably all slit our wrists by midwinter. The trailer for the film looks a lot more impressive than the BBC adaptation that caught my imagination as a child - it's worth a look if you have broadband. I may have to look into purchasing a nice White Witch-style sleigh for December, since it'll no doubt be a better way of crossing London than by snow-crippled Tube, although having polar bears drag it seems a little extravagant...

As it happens, I've been working my way through the Chronicles of Narnia, and they're still an enjoyable but undeniable children's read, although children nowadays may be dismayed by the good behaviour and uncommon good sense of the protagonists. There's no happy-slapping - Digory almost gives Polly a chinese burn at one point, but he's jolly ashamed of himself afterwards. The swearing is non-existent: expletives are replaced by such antique treasures as, "by gum!", "what a two-faced little beast!", "Lor!", and, "what frightful cheek!". If only we could make today's children so sensible they'd never close a wardrobe door behind them, and so polite that they'd only call each other "blighters"! I think it might be nice to have kids called Edmund, Lucy, Susan, Peter, or Jill rather than Britney, Courtenee, Brooklyn, Jordan, or Kyle too...

But I'm sure Father Christmas' job is so much easier these days anyway - despite the rising juvenile demand for mp3 players, mobile phones, and games consoles, I'm sure so many British kids are such evil little gremlins they get zip; certainly the ones in my neighbourhood only deserve a nice steaming reindeer shit on their Sky dish...

Bah, humbug! :)