December 31. Day 365. A wee bit Kutchered

Last day of the year. Second last day in London.
Time to act a bit kulchered. So we went to Platform 9 and 3/4 at Kings Cross Station. Like hundreds of others, we queued to pose in front of a replica of a fictional entry to the train station for the Hogwarts Express.
Yep, we are big Harry Potter fans.
Okay, that's not the culture bit.
We went to The Barbican Centre to see The Bard.
The Royal Shakespeare Company was presenting a gender-flipped version of The Taming of the Shrew.
It was beautifully done and I enjoyed it immensely but I didn't think the artistic choice to change the gender of all the parts actually added any new meaning to the text, which is surely the point. Then to round off the year we saw Everyone's Talking About Jamie, a musical with a very modern feel. And finally cocktails in the lobby bar.
Happy New Year.

December 30. Day 364. Bus it

There is, or perhaps was, a hop on, hop off bus tour of Brisbane.
I can't imagine it was very successful.
There's really not all that much to see and in any case, one of the best ways to tour the city is to take the CityCat along the great brown snake of the Brisbane River.
It's a standard commuter trip and as such much better value than any "special tourist price".
But in other cities, the bus tour is a great way to orientate yourself and see the sights in relative ease.
We did that today.
It was scarf, fake fur hat and gloves weather but very pleasant.
I always learn something from the commentary even though London is a city I have visited many times.
Also it gave our pavement weary feet a bit of a rest.

December 29. Day 363. Everyone is feeling Merry (again)

Because I'm weird like that, I rather like the song Elmo sings in Elmo Saves Christmas. The lyrics go "Everyday can't be Christmas
That wouldn't be such a treat
You can get tired of chocolate candy
When that's all you eat"
Now, I'm not one to argue with Elmo but I'd never get tired of chocolate candy. However, everyday can not be Christmas. But two days, well that seems perfectly reasonable. So today we were back at Jon and Clara's for a second festive celebration which this time Charles' mum Liz was able to join.
We started with a visit to the park with the kids which on a crisp, clear winter's day was rather nice.
Oliver brought with him one of his impossible musical theatre quizzes and we ate, drank and were merry for tomorrow we may diet

December 28. Day 363. Look behind you

The pantomime is a British Christmas institution. The British invented it and in my (limited) experience any attempt to recreate it elsewhere on the planet fails miserably (despite the fact that many an Aussie soap star has boosted his or her bank balance through the art).
Oliver finds the whole pantomime dame thing fascinating to the point that he wrote a university assignment on it.
So a pantomime was always on the agenda. We'd been told that to get the authentic experience it was best to travel beyond the big smoke, that the ones in the 'burbs had more soul than the giant arena ones in London.
So we went to Maidstone in Kent where the dame Mademoiselle Marmalade was being played by a bloke we met in Brisbane earlier in the year.
It was a fine choice, partly because the train trip into the English countryside was rather nice but mostly because the panto lived up to all expectations. And then back to London for show two of the day. There's no stopping some people.

December 27. Day 361. Masterclass

My feet hurt. A lot. Walking around a city is exhausting. Also I am not at all adapted to operating in this climate. It's not so much the cold (although I don't do cold), it's more the heating. You have to dress like Scott of the Antarctic to cope outside but the shops and underground are stifling.  I've removed more layers than a performer in the Moulin Rouge today. But while my body is tired my mind is enlightened. This afternoon we saw Death of a Salesman, a production which took risks and changed the race of the Loman family. For not the first time I was impressed at how well Arthur Miller's text stood up. We walked around a lot after the show and in the evening backed up for an audience with a master. Ian McKellen's live show was bloody awesome. We all know he's a master telling other people's stories. Turns out he's a huge talent telling his own. It was a thing of great beauty worth all the walking around and undressing.

December 26. Day 360. Boxing Day

Boxing Day is often just a bit sad. The party is over but the hangover isn't.
The mess remains as do the leftovers and the Visa bill.
There are new release films and a cricket test but that only just takes off the edge a bit.
But no time to mope this year.
We're in London so best get those tourist boots walking.
We did some of the sights - or perhaps it is sites.
We also took a break from West End theatre to try out off West End Theatre.
This differs very little in geography but quite a lot in scale.
Ghost Quartet, by the makers of Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812, was interesting but just a little weird for my liking.
But hell, it beats cold turkey sandwiches and trying to work out how all that packaging is ever going to fit into the bin.

December 25. Day 359. Happy Christmas to you

Most of the Christmas traditions followed in Australia, in no way reflect the reality of the location and climate.
Songs about slay bells and glistening snow, hot turkey dinners and lots of decorations trimmed with fur really just don't work.
Still, I refuse to adapt. I like it that way. I like tradition. But being able to celebrate with family in the Northern hemisphere, well that has to be embraced.
It's not as though I haven't done it before but this was Oliver's first time and the first one celebrated with his three cousins on hid dad's side so that is pretty special.
We ate a lot, drank a lot, played games and read really bad jokes in Christmas crackers.
And for the first time ever we got to dress for the occasion - where that is defined as really tacky sweaters. Perfect.

December 24. Day 358. History is sexy

History was my favourite subject at school mostly because of Mrs Josie James.
Mrs James was an inspiration, a woman who could weave a story and lure you into her web.
She was a shining example of what teaching could be and how a good teacher makes ALL the difference.
Because history is interesting but sadly so much effort seems to go into making it anything but.
This is why I love musicals that sex it up without dumbing it down.
Yesterday it was Six. Today it was Hamilton. Both were performed in beautiful historical theatres (not like the flatpack Ikea-style ones from home). It makes for a wonderful night. Tis type of history can repeat itself.

December 23. Day 357. I'm going to live for ever

It turns out that, in the words of Fame, "I'm going to live forever".
I know this because of an article in the New York Times and no matter what Donald Trump might think the New York Times does not represent fake news.
In fact, the New York Times represents just the opposite - quality, fairness, balance well researched journalism.
But back to me.
This article in the New York Times quotes a study that found "People who went to a museum or the theatre once a month or even every few months had a 31 percent reduced risk of dying in that period". (Actually it said theater but #American).
Now if one a month reduces your risk of dying by 31per cent, clearly someone such as myself must be immortal.
I went to the theatre twice today alone.
I am an exceptional human being.
We saw the sensational Six at the matinee and then backed up for a serve of Waitress in the evening.
Oh My God. Not only will I live forever but with shows like this it will be a long, happy (and very expensive) life.
Here are some pics - and no, I did not breach any copyright.
Both shows actually invited and encouraged audience members to snap away during the encore.
 For everyone else that meant phones.
Naturally I had my camera on me. So the long, happy and expensive life will also be well documented.

December 22. Day 356. Feeling catty

A little while back I had a headache so bad I presented at a hospital emergency department where I was fed serious painkillers through a drip. It's hard to know if it was the drugs or the pain but weird shit was going on in my head. My senses were all out of synch and at one point I heard voices. A work colleague, obviously more familiar with the dark art of migraines, asked me a number of questions. Did I have nausea? visual disturbance? light sensitivity? Aphasia (word salad she explained)? Yes, Yes, Yes and Yes. Classic migraine, she said. Well yes.