Mallorca ’22

Posted on August 20, 2022 by katese11

 

We’ve just come back from five nights in Mallorca. Well, five and a half nights but we’ll get to that. I know you’re expecting unbearable smugness but don’t worry. It still had a LWAT-chaosy edge to it all so I’m gonna tell you the good and the bad. Don’t get me wrong – I’m hugely grateful to be able to leave the country after nearly three years of confinement and I’m very aware that being able to afford a foreign holiday is a massive privilege during a cost of living crisis. I was just as grateful to go to Wales last year and see my sister and her family after a year and a half. I was also super grateful to go to Harwich in 2020 after six months of not leaving London. So I am totally grateful for a few days in Mallorca. But it was far from perfect. Buckle in…or should I say “seatbelts on”?

The Good:

Alcúdia Beach:

Absolutely lovely warm water and soft sand. Shallow enough for a non-swimmer to confidently scamper about and deep enough for a swimmer to have a decent splash. All the sun loungers and shades were taken, which was a challenge in the direct sun but some a sweet German lad gifted us a parasol which would have been very helpful on our return trip. Pity our return trip was in the rain…

All the swimming pools:

I love to swim and the resort we were staying in had eight of them. Well, only seven were open but it kept the kids occupied trying to track them all down. We spent most of the day in them when we weren’t walking to the beach or eating. They weren’t perfect and I found a lot of discarded plastic cups in them but they were clean enough. The big water slides were closed but Reuben enjoyed the ones that were open.

All the eating:

We decided to go for all-inclusive because it’s not a proper holiday if you have to do the washing up. The food wasn’t fancy but we’re not fancy folk, so that’s fine. And Eva agreed to eat something at every meal, which was quite the bonus. Free, self-service soft drinks and slushies were definite pros for the kids

The mountain views:

I do love being surrounded by mountains even if I defied the Reverend Mother and didn’t attempt to climb even one mountain, let alone every mountain. Sorry Reverend Mother.

 

The Bad:

Wizz Air check in:

I don’t know whether it’s Brexit or Covid or just choosing a bargain-basement airline but it’s a bit unbearable to queue for an hour just to check in our hold luggage (which obviously we paid a fortune to take with us). There was no information at all on flight times at check in at Gatwick and the information at Palma was inaccurate. Both queues were chaotic – Palma slightly better than Gatwick – and you definitely need to factor that time in when flying, as well as the usual two hours before departure and time for car parking etc.

The four-hour delay on the way home:

That evening flight which got us in at midnight? Forget that. We spent seven hours at Palma with very little information and a paltry 4 euros each in compensation. I can’t relive it too much but it meant we needed to book a hotel in Crawley so that Nathan wasn’t driving 40 miles at 5am with no sleep. I’m not best pleased with Wizz Air right now, in case you can’t tell.

The coach transfer:

Two hour flight. Two hours on a coach visiting some very random parts of the island. Bed at 1am. Remind me to book a taxi next time.

The mosquitoes:

I think I counted 100 bites and that was after dousing myself in citronella. If you’re planning a visit, pack the industrial stuff (and not in your hand luggage). I don’t have any photos to illustrate this point, but you should probably be glad about that.

The power cut:

Six hours without running water or power put something of a crimp on our second night, after spending most of the first night on a coach. It might sound moany, but power is kinda vital when you’re on the fifth floor and neither the lifts nor the aircon are working… I don’t have any photos for this one either cause it was…well…dark.

Anyway, I asked the kids and they said they had a lovely time. And we did too, really. I realise I sound moany but I got to swim in a warm sea and many, many pools and eat cake at every meal so it’s all good. There was just quite a lot of complications to deal with in a short space of time. I think we might not leave London for the next few days….

 

Posted in Creating precious childhood memories or something (days out) | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

“Cinderella in Boots” at Chickenshed – 06/08/22

Posted on August 7, 2022 by katese11

 

A panto in summer? Oh no they didn’t! Oh yes they did. Who said that panto is just for Christmas? And since when have Chickenshed played by anyone else’s rules anyway? The summer panto is a fun show for all ages and just loves to subvert your expectations. But we’ll get onto that in a bit because we had to get there first. And TfL were also subverting our expectations.

We had a whole complicated plan around the show as we had a long-lost relative visiting from Australia. The plan was to meet at Cockfosters station and go for breakfast before splitting into two groups – girls to the theatre, boys to the comic shop. All this seemed doable and, as we got on the Piccadilly Line at Finsbury Park, we were well on course to reach Cockfosters by 9. It seemed implausible, given how early we’d had to leave the house, but we were doing well.

Until Oakwood. Hands up if anyone can tell me where the Piccadilly Line terminates. Is it Oakwood? No! It’s the next stop. And if it was Oakwood, wouldn’t you expect some kind of announcement telling you to “all change please”?

Apparently that is not how the Piccadilly Line rolls. After a long time sitting in the station, we leaned out to see that the first train on the display was to Northfields in 14 minutes. Neither of those things sounded promising for people who were hoping to head northbound in the next minutes. We got off the train and then the doors started to beep, so we jumped back on, thinking it had all been a blip and it was carrying on its journey for one more stop.

Anyway, as we pulled into Southgate station for the second time morning, we decided to give up on this plan. We’d get off the Piccadilly Line and go and find a bus that would take us to Cockfosters to find the Aussie. That would be straightforward enough, right? Eva and I had caught the 298 and the 299 from this bus stop hundreds of times on our way to Chickenshed.

At first, it was promising. The 299 was due in 10 minutes, which jumped down to 6 minutes and then 4 and then it was due. But didn’t show up. Instead, a 298 showed up which *surely* would be the uncomplicated way to finally reach Cockfosters. It’s basically one straight road between them, right? The cursed Oakwood station is randomly off to the East on a kind of weird spur but Southgate>>Cockfosters is a straight line. All we needed to do was to get off at the correct stop.

Which is obviously easier when the bus you’re on doesn’t panic and try to say all the stops at every stop. So for the first stop after Southgate, the bus tried to tell us we were at “SouthgatePoliceStationSouthgateAsdaAvenueRoad” By the time we were passing Chickenshed, it was saying “BramleyRoadFrestonGardensCockfostersStation” which made my entire family try to get off the bus right there and then. Luckily, I kept my cool and wouldn’t let them get off until we were at “CockfostersStationTrentCountryParkCoombehurstClose”. Or in other words, our destination:

Turns out that the family were running late so we now had 15 minutes to kill. Lucky we’d used up all that time going backwards on the Piccadilly Line. The “Trent Country Park” part of the bus stop name had reminded me that there might be a nice place for a runaround nearby. It wasn’t as close as I thought it might be and getting there involved crossing a very busy road, almost walking into a cemetry and trying to work out where to walk on this segregated but unmarked piece of pavement:

But it was worth it for the full five minutes we spent in the park. We saw some ducks. Eva compared it – favourably I think – to the five minutes we’d spent at the Tate Modern last week.

As we walked back to the station after our five minutes in the countryside, we saw a familiar car beeping and overtaking us. Family were in the hood and the part of the plan where they left the car at Cockfosters station – £6 for the day, plenty of spaces – worked very well indeed.

The way the morning had gone so far, I was barely even surprised when my first choice of breakfast place was closed for a refit. It was pizza in Finsbury Park all over again. But we’d passed a place called Miracles on the way down the road, so we doubled back and ordered fast. We were running out of time before the show now so would they be able to cook and serve us a breakfast with enough time? And would Eva be swift enough to stick to the schedule?

Miracles do happen!

Eva didn’t quite get through all her chips, mainly because the portion was the size of her head, but she ate her hash browns, halloumi and artisan bread remarkably efficiently. She also made a good dent on her Oreo milkshake before we left it for Nathan to finish. The rest of us had tasty set breakfasts and coffee (except for Roo) and by 10:40 us girls were back out on the road and ready for a panto.

The show was in the Studio Theatre, which is a smaller and more intimate space than the main auditorium. It meant that the smaller kids could sit on mats in the front and join in with the songs and dances. Eva chose to dance from her seat. There was a routine for everyone to learn before the show even started but I was definitely too full of bacon to stand up and do it properly. Like Eva, I stayed in my seat and just did the arm actions. There was no pressure to get on your feet but the little kids who did were absolutely loving it.

Then the cast explained the premise of the show – they were a band of travelling actors and they were looking to put on a play that was a twist on one of the classic fairy tales. After some interesting suggestions from the audience, they unveiled their title – “Cinderella in Boots”.

Copyright Chickenshed

The plot picks up at the end of the original tale. Cinders is trying on the shoe, it fits, there’s a wedding photo complete with sulking sisters and then happily ever after…..right?

No, of course not! What kind of plot would that be? Of course their happiness is derailed by an evil baron who declares himself King, inflicts a cruel and unusual punishment on the Prince and puts his plans for world domination into motion. Much more fun. Cinders is forced to work in a shoe shop, which obviously resonated with me from the Clarks’ days though I don’t remember my boss being a neon-pink Scottish yeti. Might have been more fun if they were.

So there’s a heroine, a villain, a slightly arbitrary hero who gets created by the Fairy Godmother near the end..everything a panto needs. Plus lots of shoe puns (when the villain appeared, the whole audience booed “Shooooooe”) and a lot of fourth wall breaking. But there are some twists….the Fairy Godmother is a bit ineffectual, the sisters are revolting social media junkies and the Prince is out of the equation for most of the story. Cinderella is the only character who consistently makes good decisions so it’s easy to know who to boot for. Sorry, root for. This shoe pun thing is infectious.

Being as rubbish at research as I am at catching the Piccadilly Line, I don’t have a cast list to hand. I was pretty sure we saw Lucy-Mae Beacock as Cinderella as I’ve seen her in Mr Stink a couple of times. She certainly sings like Lucy-Mae, which was shown off to great effect in a gorgeous number called “Princes and Pineapples” where the lights were dimmed and the cast used glow-in-the-dark hula hoops to create a magical effect.

The rest of the ensemble looked familiar too and certainly had the trademark Chickenshed energy and inclusivity. They weren’t at all phased when the toddlers invaded the stage and wanted to join in with the action…although the villain did have to break character briefly to ask them to stop throwing shoes at him. Well, if you tell an audience of kids that you wanna steal their shoes, what do you expect?

As you can tell, it got rowdy at times. Eva enjoyed the heckling and when asked to choose between Options A, B and C shouted out “Option H!”. Of course, she had no idea what Option H was but that was her preference. It was a joyous and freewheeling experience, with kids encouraged to participate as they felt comfortable and not just sit quietly and watch. There was an opportunity to have photos with the cast at the end as well, though Eva wanted to and then changed her mind. As ever with Chickenshed, it was a welcoming spaces for all types of kid – the ones who do want to sit quietly, the ones who want to dance and the ones who want to sit but heckle. All this audience participation never quite derailed the plot and there was an ending that was as happy as you’d expect from a panto. Don’t dig too deep into the logic of it all but just accept that everything seems to have worked out OK. And no shoes were harmed in the making of this show.

Also, I forgot to mention earlier how fancy the toilets at Miracles were. But they really were:

“Cinderella in Boots” runs until 13th August. For tickets and more info, click here.

Disclaimer: I received free tickets in exchange for a review. All opinions remain honest and my own.

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“Midsummer Mechanicals” at the Globe Theatre – 31/07/22

Posted on July 31, 2022 by katese11

As soon as I heard about the premise of this play, I was intrigued. I’ve doubtless mentioned it on the blog before but I played the part of a mechanical in MSND when I was Reuben’s age (which yes, is terrifying now that I think about it). Here’s the only proof I have that this did, in fact, happen (with live dog no less):

So a play exploring what the mechanicals did next sounded like exactly my kind of thing. Would the writers be able to recreate the riotous rehearsals for Pyramus and Thisbe with all the accompanying Freudian slips? Yes, as it turns out they pretty much did. But let’s now jump the gun. This is an LWAT review and so a bit of rambling preamble is mandatory.

We were at church this morning, obviously. We have been at church pretty much constantly this week. But today was a Sunday so I guess we were meant to be there today. Eva and I had lunch at My Favourite Cafe in Essex Road  – Set1 for me, halloumi, toast and chips for her – and jumped on the 56 all the way to St Paul’s. Eva chose bus over the speedier tube option but was complaining even before we got to Angel about how long it was taking. So I let her play games on my phone while I looked out of the window and wondered why I still had a massive blank spot when it came to Farringdon being just down the road from the Barbican. I also smiled wryly as we passed Little Britain, which I’d last visited on 12th December 2019.  A very Little Britain kind of day.

When we rounded St Paul’s, I remembered that Eva now had a phobia of bridges. I can never keep up with what she’s scared of when but apparently it started when I made her cross Westminster Bridge in a thunderstorm. The Millennium Bridge can be challenging for people who don’t have a bridge-phobia and it was windy today…so you can imagine how that went. The scene in Half-Blood Prince where the Death Eaters blow the bridge up didn’t help but, somehow, we made it across in just over five minutes and entirely un-blown-up by Death Eaters. Phew! Next, we nipped into the Tate Modern to use the loos – although I’d like to come back for  the Uniqlo installation – and then found our way to the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse at the back of the Globe.

Eva’s been to the Globe before – for Macbeth with Bunny – but I haven’t. Both theatres have the same main entrance, with the main Globe to the right and the Playhouse to the left.  It’s the indoor theatre and is mainly seated but with some standing rows at the back. It’s built in the Elizabethan style and we were in the Upper Gallery – “a perfect view of the whole stage”, according to Eva.

As we took our seats, the actors were already on the stage setting things up and chatting to the audience. The best seats for the bantz were probably in the pit, although they waved and talked to all the different levels of the theatre. The official start of the show came with the announcement that the Duke and Duchess were on their way and the mechanicals only had 45 minutes to get their play ready. And chaos ensued.

I won’t spoiler too much of the plot but the basis is that Theseus and Hippolyta enjoyed Pyramus and Thisbe so much that they’ve invited the mechanicals back to perform again for their first wedding anniversary. It’s good to know that the pair of them made it to that milestone as it was a bit of a rocky start, what with the whole “doing thee injuries” courtship. And it nicely ties together the three different groups of MSND as the new play the mechanicals have chosen to put on is a version of what happened with Bottom and Titania in the woods. So although the mechanicals are the main parts in this production, the fairies and the court are woven in too.

It’s a show that seems to be aimed at theatre kids and Shakespeare geeks. Eva is rapidly becoming both, so that’s good. Not to say that other kids won’t enjoy it but when they asked if anyone in the audience liked acting and a number of hands shot up….well, that was my clue as to the key demographic here. There were several opportunities for audience members to participate, such as providing the sound effects for the play-within-a-play and, for three lucky people, performing a “fairy dance” in the roles of Cobweb, Moth and Mustardseed. Heckling was, I feel, encouraged and there was even a space for punters to offer their most vicious insults for Bottom and Oberon to throw at each other. Come prepared!

Rehearsal photo, credit Manuel Harlan

I mentioned earlier that the show managed to capture some of the riotous energy of the original and I stand by that. The writers – Ben Hales and Kerry Frampton – clearly know their source material well and cleverly weave quotes into songs and dialogue. Some of these quotes are paraphrased and some virtually intact but they never jar with the new material. Kerry Frampton also plays Bottom and really captures the preening, self-involved buffoonery needed for the role. I feel extremely stupid that I didn’t realise Bottom was played by a woman until I saw her in the foyer afterwards. It plays into one of the major plot points about women on the Elizabethan stage so I really should have clocked that but it just shows how convincing she was as a man. Eva still won’t believe me on this point though.

Rehearsal photo, credit Manuel Harlan

One of my favourite nods to the original was all the wordplay where Quince and Bottom kept saying almost the right words in just the manner that Quince does in the prologue. This new play had two prologues, one very much in the same style and the other lifted from a different Shakespeare play. Again, no spoilers here as to which play that was but you might be able to guess. Some of the wordplay verged on adult content – you don’t often hear the word “impotent” in a show aimed at primary school kids – but none of the kids in the audience noticed. They did all notice the wordplay around the donkey’s head and absolutely howled with laughter. Eva was laughing so loud that other people were turning round in surprise and I had to shush her a few times. But it was very, very funny.

Rehearsal photo, credit Manuel Harlan

I mentioned the songs briefly and there were a highlight too  – the four actors played a variety of instruments between them (from memory; double bass, accordion, xylophone, guitar and ukulele) and again, there was an opportunity to join in with one of the recurring tunes. Lovely harmonies, even with Flute’s voice not as ladylike as it once was, and very well executed, often for comedy effect. It’s probably harder to sing deliberately out of time with someone else than it is to sing in time, right?

Overall, a great laugh and a deserving successor to the original. And you know that I don’t say that lightly. It gives the air of perfectly-planned chaos and although the runtime is longish for the audience age (2 hours including interval), it flew by. I think all kids will enjoy it because there’s plenty of slapstick and silly jokes in there. I mean, there’s a literal banana skin at one point. But if you have one of those kids who’s particularly into Shakespeare they might get a bit more from it. They will quite possibly think it’s as “A-MAZING!” as Eva did.

Heading home, we chose to go over Southwark Bridge as it seemed a bit more solid than the Millennium Bridge. And it had some lovely views too:

What it doesn’t currently have is any bus stops because the road itself is being dug up. I’d planned to catch the 344 back to Liverpool Street as my feet were knackered after a heavy week’s activity. But we ended up walking past Cannon Street and catching the 11 just on the other side of Bank junction. Which then took an unexpectedly southerly turn towards Monument before grudgingly allowing us to get off at Liverpool Street. It definitely would have been quicker to walk from Bank but I’d told Eva we would get the bus and occasionally I like to deliver on my promises. Some people reading this might now be smiling at the combination of “Promise” and “Bus stop” but that’s so niche I’m not even going to unpack it for you here. Soz!

Let me just say this though – some promises are not worth keeping when they involve an overheated bus taking you three sides of a square. The promise to take Eva to shows she loves every weekend though….that promise is going well so far.

“Midsummer Mechanicals” is on until 21st August – for more tickets and info, click here.

Disclaimer: I received free tickets in exchange for a review. All opinions remain honest and my own. 

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“Twelfth Night” by East London Shakespeare Festival- 23/07/22

Posted on July 26, 2022 by katese11

Now, I mentioned in my last post that we were off to a second theatrical production, almost straight from “Room on the Broom”. If this sounds like madness, let me assure you that it was. This second show wasn’t one I was reviewing so just attending as a normal, paying punter. Which means that this won’t be a proper review as I was part-relaxing and part-child-wrangling. But it’s rare that anything like this comes to Highams Park so I couldn’t let it pass without a mention.

The production was staged by East London Shakespeare Festival, whose mission is to “merge the contemporary culture of East London with the inspirational storytelling of Shakespeare’s plays in outdoor parks and community spaces across East London.” They take Shakespeare out into the community, in the hope of reaching those who wouldn’t naturally access the plays. Of course, this isn’t super-applicable to this one, who insisted on wearing her “Taming of the Shrew” outfit to the performance:

She’s already read Twelfth Night as well and claims it’s her “favourite Shakespeare comedy”, so had some idea what was going on – more so that Reuben, who asked me quite a fundamental question about the plot (“are they the same person?”) surprisingly close to the end . Still, I think he enjoyed the slapstick and banter between Toby Belch and Sir Andrew. There was a lot to enjoy about this production – from the 80s music to the audience participation – so didn’t matter too much if the younger audience members weren’t 100% following the plot.

And let’s face it, Twelfth Night does ask you to partake in a pretttty big suspension of disbelief, doesn’t it? If I grew a beard, I don’t think I could convince my sister in law that I was in fact my brother. Might be worth a try sometime though.

A few practical things first  – the production was in a fenced off area in the Highams Park next to Humphreys. I’ve maypoled danced there most weekends over Spring and sang there last week so I, of all people, should know that there is no shade in that bit of the park. Eva had brought her umbrella with her but got tired of holding it up so eventually went to sit basically in the blackberry bushes at the side. You can guess how those Tudor sleeves fared among brambles. Roo kinda ducked behind our camping chairs for shade but I think we were all relieved when it clouded over halfway through. So if you’re going to an outdoor production, probably best to get there early to get a good shady spot. There was an aisle to our left that the actors were using to get to the stage so no one could sit in that bit, which was a shame as it was one of the shadiest parts. The camping chairs were also a good move, even if we had to stop at Tesco on the way to buy them. I do own some, but they’ve been off on vacay with a choir member since Christmas so it seemed worth £15 to buy a couple more. We also stocked up on drinks and fruit to keep hydrated while we sat in the sun and some sweets to try and keep the kids happy.

Onto the play itself. You might have guessed by the reference to 80s music that this was not the most traditional Shakespeare ever. I’m normally a bit of a purist when it comes to these things but, as I say, I was just there to relax and a frothy, fun version is sometimes what you need. Malvolio’s yellow stockings – neon fishnets – were certainly striking and the use of “Don’t You Want Me” just before the interval fitted surprisingly well into the characters’ emotional states at the time. There were still the more traditional Twelfth Night songs (“With hey, ho, the wind and the rain”) but this version definitely took a “more is more” approach when it came to music. After all, if music be the food of love…play on!

The ensemble worked well together and there was some great physical comedy, especially in the scene with the plants. Malvolio, played by Philip Honeywell, was fittingly unlikeable and I really liked Ursula Early’s interpretation of Olivia as clingy and desperate for love. Olivia is often a bit of a bland character but she was infused here with a kind of nervous energy that made her much more interesting. I believe it was Arysha Kelly’s professional debut as Viola/Cesario and, if so, she did a magnificent job holding the whole twisty plot together. As well as acting, the cast sang, played guitars and even did some vogueing. What a multi-talented lot.

I missed a large chunk of the second half because Eva had wandered off in search of a drink and found a puppy. But we were back in time for the ending where, in classic Shakespearean fashion, everything worked out just fine. Even if the Duke was struggling to tell which twin was which.

If you’re looking for a laidback, family-friendly version of Shakespeare this summer, this is just right. There are still a few dates left –

27-29 July at Clissold Park, N16

05-07 Aug at Springfield Park, E5

For tickets and more info, click here.

No disclaimer needed as I actually paid for this one. All opinions do remain honest and my own though. 

 

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“Room on the Broom” at Lyric Theatre – 23/07/22

Posted on July 23, 2022 by katese11

credit Mark Senior

If you’re not familiar with Julia Donaldson’s “Room on the Broom”, let me give you the gist. It’s a story about a witch on a journey who picks up a random cast of characters along the way…a bit like a road movie or “Wizard of Oz”. She’s one of the good witches, though. Eva was fully committing to a theme, so in 25c dressed head-to-ankle in black and glitter for that witchy look:

We were heading for the Lyric Theatre in Shaftesbury Avenue. Not to be confused with the Lyric Hammersmith. I did get slightly confused trying to find the right exit at Piccadilly Circus because there were signs for Shaftesbury Avenue pointing in both directions. Also because it’s circular and I’m easily confused. We did get to revisit this tribute to Frank Pick tho:

Lyric is a few minutes away from the station. The signs outside are for the Bob Marley musical but it’s where “Room on the Broom” is on too as the two shows are sharing the space.

As I say, I’m easily confused but the gaggle of parents and toddlers outside persuaded me that we were in the right place. And it’s all set up for little ones – there’s a designated storage area as you go in for folded buggies and a pile of booster seats in the theatre itself.

Eva was mainly absorbed with looking at the “very fancy” decor and specifically the giant chandelier:

But soon enough, the light were dimmed and the show started. As you might guess, the plot is expanded out a bit from the source material to fill the 60-minute runtime. It starts with a group of campers who spot something suspiciously broom-like streaking across the sky. I really like how the actors in this scene had little hints to the parts they would play in the main story. One of the men had a Welsh-flag hat with a prominent red dragon. And Jessica Manu wore a grey hat with a pink bobble, which matched the pink flower that would later appear on her witch’s hat. Also, next time I go camping I want a sleeping bag suit.

credit Mark Senior

The set was simple  – probably because of the timeshare with Bob Marley – but effective, with broomsticks woven into the background. The actors were high-energy and always seemed to be in motion, especially once the puppet characters were introduced. The more characters that appeared, the more complex the logistical challenges must have been but they were passed seamlessly from actor to the other with only one noticeable glitch, which was more amusing than offputting (a good ad lib from Jake Waring made this possibly my favourite part of the whole show)

Apart from that, the show flowed perfectly. I enjoyed the dynamics between witch and cat particularly as they verged from affection to annoyance and back again, usually with a peace offering of a jelly baby. As I mentioned earlier, the plot was hugely fleshed out from the original book and all the characters given a bit of depth and motivation. The dog, who I seem to remember is only described as “keen” in the book, gets a whole song about wanting to howl at the moon, on the moon. Similarly, the bird (originally only “green”) has a song about being left behind during a migration….and an accent that seemed straight out of EastEnders. There isn’t a lot of closure around whether the bird ever made it to the French Riveria or whether the dog made it to the moon but you can’t expect all the plot threads to be tied up within 60 minutes. The dog’s story did prompt a reference to Laika the space dog, though, which made me sad for a full week last time I thought about her (thanks Bridget Christie!) I’ll try and move on more quickly this time.

credit Mark Senior

On the subject of the dog though, you can guess who Eva’s favourite character was. As the dog was playing fetch with the witch’s hat but refusing to let go of it, Eva leaned over and whispered in my ear “that is so realistic!”. And she very much agreed with the dog’s song where he said that he was a Good Boy. Most deserving of tummy tickles.

Eva was slightly older than most of the audience but there was plenty of action to keep an older kid’s attention and she enjoyed some of the gags that were aimed at the adults, such as the Bohemian Rhapsody reference. She enjoyed joining in with the “Whoosh”es as the broom took off, and the “Iggety ziggety zaggety zoom” song at the end. It was a show that never took itself too seriously, which is perfect for the start of the holidays where I think all our kids are just ready to kick back and have some fun. And this show has fun by the broomload. Whether it’s sassy frogs or adorable dogs, there will be something to love.

After the show, we got to have a witch-some cupcake and meet the cast, which was awesome. You’ll be pleased to know that I made sure Eva washed her hands between the purple icing and attempting to tummy-tickle the dog.

As we left the theatre, we were stopped by some tourists asking where the theatre for “Wicked” was. Clearly, they thought that Eva’s witch’s hat made her an expert on all witch-related musicals. I said I thought it was at the Apollo in Victoria and pointed vaguely at a number 38 bus. I realise now that there’s an Apollo theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue and they’d probably gone to the wrong one. Told you these same-named theatres can be confusing!

McDonalds was also confusing as there were no ordering screens so I had to order Eva’s McPlant burger from a real live person and forgot all the customisations she normally does. And the stairs were being constantly mopped and I had too much in my hands to hold on, so that was a challenge too. But somehow, I got the child fed and myself fed and we even picked up some cool new shades for Eva, which she modelled on the way to another theatre production this afternoon.

I did go the wrong way on the Bakerloo line though. The train was there and we jumped on without really looking where we were going. The only time I’ve ever gone the wrong direction on the tube before was also on the Bakerloo line and possibly even at Piccadilly Circus or maybe Charing Cross. That was about twenty years ago and I was reading a book while walking. Today I had no such excuse….I’m just a doofus.

I’ll leave you with something delightful I heard on the escalator down though as the girl behind us had just realised for the first time where the name “Bakerloo” came from.

“That’s amazing” she said “I can’t believe I never knew that. But why don’t all tube lines work the same way. Why isn’t it….I dunno….the AngelBridge line?”

Genius. I’m calling the Bank branch that from now on. Who’s with me?

 

Room on the Broom is on at the Lyric Theatre until 4th September. Click here for tickets and more info.

Disclaimer: I received free tickets (and a cupcake!) in exchange for a review. All opinions remain honest and my own. 

credit Mark Senior

 

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“Immanuel” – A Book Review of Sorts

Posted on July 15, 2022 by katese11

With the carelessness you’ve come to expect from me, I totally missed the 11th anniversary of the blog this week. Yes, it was in the week in July 2011 that I first decided you all needed to know just how slapdash my parenting was in a series of loosely-connected ramblings. 700 and something of them so far.

But it just so happens that I did have a fun trip out on the day itself. I went to a book launch, to celebrate a book that emerged from a different blog that I contributed a post to in 2011. The blog was about a Nigerian pastor called TB Joshua who I really knew very little about but I wanted to help my friends so I wrote a little musing about the church we grew up in. I linked to it on this early-days post.

My little article was pretty flimsy and received the most lukewarm of all reviews from a regular commenter:

“I honestly believed this post was a bit of a non-issue”

But there was a germ of an idea in it, which the founder of the blog has now turned into a fully-fledged book. It’s been a surreal experience, seeing people write about a book that described my childhood but, post-launch, I thought I should contribute my own review. Which hopefully won’t write the whole thing off as a “non-issue”.

Some scene-setting first though! The launch was at the lovely bookshop Ink@84, which is somewhere between Finsbury Park and Clissold Park. I was on a tight timescale, thanks to my most slapdash piece of parenting yet, so leapt on to the tube as the doors were closing, giving myself a most impressively Londonish injury.

The grime of it all!

When I got to Finsbury Park, I knew where to get the bus from as I’d packed a couple of tweens onto it after Reuben’s birthday expedition to the Sobell Centre in June. Finsbury Park is an extremely confusing interchange and we’d ended up charging down the middle of a bus lane that one of the tweens assured me was “perfectly safe” to catch a bus that then didn’t move for hours. There’s also a whole other bit of bus station behind the station which is now linked up with a shiny new bit and a giant M&S Food Hall. I feel like I wrote a blog post about the last time I was there, on my way back from Muswell Hill but apparently I didn’t. Neither did I blog about the futile quest to find a place that would feed the tweens and teens pizza pre-Sobell Centre. Eventually went to a Greek place. Long story.

Anyway, all of that meant a good swift change onto a bus at Finsbury Park and I arrived slightly sweaty but in plenty of time for the reading. Ink@84 has a drinks counter as well as lots of books. Much as I was tempted by a glass of wine, I thought a rhubarb soda was much more sensible when it was so hot and I’d been running. Very nice it was too.

Do you actually want me to get onto basic information about the book now? Well, in the words of Isaiah 7:14, it is “called Immanuel” and it’s written by a childhood friend of mine, Matthew McNaught. It’s about the same prophet that we discussed endlessly on that blog in 2011 but its main focus is the small provincial church we grew up in and how that church came to entangle itself with the prophet.

It’s really hard to objectively review this book, which is probably I rambled about pizza and bus stations for so long. Matt’s text brings Immanuel back to life in a way that made tears spring to my eyes as I read it. It was waiting for me as I got home from work drinks a few weeks ago and I was trying to hold back from immersing myself in it but it was impossible. As I absentmindedly ate chips with BBQ sauce (so much for that snowy-white cover) I tried to watch Taskmaster but kept picking it back up again. I read late into the night and on the train next morning. Unusually for me, I avoided sitting with someone I knew just so I could read. Walking through Liverpool Street, I reached the evocative section about the old ads in the church magazine and pulled my sunglasses on in case anyone spotted the tears welling up in my eyes.

I walked past a more recently-left church of ours, still immersed in the 1990s version of Christianity. I went to Pret on the corner of Great Winchester Street, smirking to myself at the coincidence, and read about eating homemade rice krispie cakes while awaiting my soy latte and croissant. My body was going through the motions of a 40-something London dweller but my mind was back to being a 10-year-old in Hampshire. It was only when I reached my office that I pulled myself together and decided I needed to put the book away and focus. Otherwise I could easily have kept reading all morning.

Matt’s always been an extraordinary writer. At the age of 8 or so, he was writing poems about flowers for the church magazine that put the adults to shame. His father is also a gifted poet. We’ll skim over the attempts at worship songs Matt wrote in his teens but I still have the lyrics in my head. And, while we’re on the subject of Matt as a teen, I still have the embarrassing photos. Oh yes, I do.

The book had drawn me in and I felt disconnected to the real world for days. As my Facebook news feed and inbox filled with ex-Immanuelites wanting to discuss it, I could think of little else. Even with a pair of choir gigs and the aforementioned child’s birthday trip the weekend after I’d started reading, my mind felt elsewhere.

And now here I was, in a room full of people who were here to learn about my childhood through the lens of someone else. As I say, most surreal. I was glad of the company of a current church friend to keep me grounded and who I could whisper asides to – “That’s my brother’s name!”, “Yes, there really were a lot of courtesy drops in our church”, “so what he’s saying is he basically plagiarised my blog post”.

Matt read a little from the preface and Chapter 1 of the book before being interviewed by author and journalist Samira Shackle. She asked some really insightful questions and managed to draw Matt  – who is a modest guy – out a little and really talk about the meat of his book. He’s endlessly self-deprecating but it’s a fascinating read. Just from the variety of people who’d gathered in the room, you could tell it was a subject that interested Christians, agnostics, atheists, people of other religions….we all came from different viewpoints but the ideas that were being discussed were universal. The importance of community to your sense of self. The momentum that comes from corporate movements like worship and how it’s easier to be swept up than to be the one slamming on the brakes. The longing for something in your childhood that’s missing from your adulthood.

Having said that, it is a challenging read for evangelical Christians. It’s written from the perspective of someone who’s lost their faith and many of the people in the story have found themselves embracing a quieter, simpler kind of Christianity. The scars left by the extremes of Immanuel run deep and there’s so much more that wasn’t in the book. Since I’ve been having these conversations with people from my old church, I’ve learnt about what went on between adults that us kids were never aware of. It’s been fascinating getting reacquainted with people who were the grown-ups in the church when I was a teen and who had a different perspective on it that I’d been somewhat shielded from. I’ve started writing about my own experiences in the church but I have no idea whether I’ll publish it on the internet anywhere. Certainly not here on LWAT, which isn’t usually a place for theological naval-gazing. But I’m making an exception today because this did at least place in London and there was a slightly-past-toddlerhood child there so it’s on London With a Toddler turf. Plus, they had some lovely children’s books there. Go visit!

But if I can indulge in a touch more naval-gazing for a moment, I do believe that Christians should read this book. It sets out a roadmap for what churches shouldn’t do. It looks at the issues of putting too much store in prophetic words and dreams, especially when those words become divisive and what Matt calls “passive-aggressive”. I’ve long been averse to untested prophecy and this only reinforces why I feel that way. The hurts in this book are immense, and the broken families left in the wake of the church’s demise are a warning to us all. Immanuel was the best of churches and the book paints a vivid picture, alongside the beautiful postcard designed by Matt’s brother Jonathan. This image just *is* the Immanuel I knew. I assume Jonathan is not quite the tiny cute blond boy I knew but still, he’s done an amazing job:

Original graphic by Jonathan McNaught

I should say, I have not heard from everyone I knew in those days. I’m guessing some have chosen not to read the book and some might have read it and are feeling hurt or betrayed. I don’t know. I don’t speak on their behalf. I only speak for myself when I say I’m glad he wrote it. It’s been an emotional journey but the overwhelming feeling I had at the launch was pride. Not the sinful kind, the good kind. Pride in the wonderful community we once had and pride in Matt’s achievements. But of course I didn’t wanna say anything slushy to him and instead just bullied him into writing me a formal apology for the plagiarism but also for using my actual name for a person in the book who clearly is not me if you know me well enough but at a glance might raise a few eyebrows.

So that’s righted those wrongs.

Where to go from here? Well, it’s certainly inspired me to write about my own experiences with the church which were devastating at the time but also formative. More though, it’s inspired me to reconnect with people from my past. I’d love to go for a coffee with them and chat over this stuff. So if you’re one of them, please do get in touch either through the contact page of the blog or through Facebook or Twitter if we know each other there. It might not be cathartic writing a whole book about this stuff but it’s certainly cathartic to talk about it.

“Immanuel” by Matthew McNaught is available from Fitzcarraldo Editions now. Believe it or not, I actually paid for this one (twice!) rather than trying to blag a review copy so no disclaimer needed but in case you were in any doubt, all opinions remain honest and my own. 

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A Waterside Wander – 25/06/22

Posted on June 28, 2022 by katese11

 

I seem to remember writing about hanging out in Kings Cross in the early days of the blog. Back then, Kings Cross was no place to linger. It was basically just a seedy main road and a very cramped station. Nowadays, it’s practically a neighbourhood.

We had reasons to be in Kings Cross. We had a wedding to get to at 5PM, which was at the Baptist church nearby. But first, we were planning to squeeze in some time with family who happened to be nearby. They were having lunch in a pub in Camden Road so we caught two overground trains (which were running perfectly at the time) and met them there. My plan was to walk down the canal from there to Kings Cross, stopping off at Gasholder Park along the way.

The plan worked pretty perfectly. I nominated one of the nephews to dive into the canal and rescue Eva if she fell in but I’m happy to say we didn’t need to resort to that. It was a sunny afternoon and there were some pretty boats and a few ducks bobbing along, in amongst the plastic bottles and assorted debris. Ah Camden, never change.

After about half a mile of walking, we came across Gasholder Park. We’d been there in February a few years ago but this was a much sunnier day. If you like taking photos, as the most hipster of my nephews does, it’s a good spot. The contrast of the canal and the train line makes a good backdrop and then there is endless fun playing around with the mirrored pillars.

Although you might end up with something like this, which Reuben calls “the stuff of nightmares”:

Kings Cross seems to change every time I go there and I swear there was a whole load of shops and stuff in Coal Drops Yard that have spring up post-Covid. I seem to remember going clubbing around here in the early 2000s but it didn’t look like this:

 

Plus these flower beds that the kids seemed determined to push each other into:

Our wedding formals weren’t exactly suitable for water-play so I gave the fountains a swerve and headed on towards Kings Cross itself. That meant passing by a hipster gelato van, which caused Eva to sigh “now I’m hungry for ice cream”. We went for a swing in the birdcage, which also had an ice cream van parked next to it. Luckily that one looked shut.

But I couldn’t ignore the pitying pleas of Eva’s ice cream tummy for long. The family had a long drive ahead of them so they left us just next to the station, where we bumped into an HP mum who was childfree and fancyfree. We were neither of those things and we still had an hour or so to kill before the wedding. I thought about getting some McFlurries but couldn’t quite face the McDonalds chaos.

So instead, we went to hang out at Creams instead. It was surprisingly affordable – much more so than the hipster ice cream vans – and delicious gelato-style ice cream. After half an hour or so we might have been starting to outstay our welcome but there was plenty of space so we ordered coffees as well and the kids entertained themselves by taking photos and applying “detective filters” for that Film Noir style.

If you’re observant, you’ll notice that the one of Eva wasn’t taken at Creams at all but at Five Guys post-wedding. Our friends had plans to go to a nice Portuguese cafe but it was 7ish by the time we’d finished at the church and our children were only suitable for places with quick service and wipeable surfaces.

It was a lovely wedding, in case you were wondering.

So the kids were full of chips and had refills of their drinks to go. The journey home was going to be a swift one on the Victoria Line and all was well….wasn’t it?

Well, not quite. You’ll notice that Eva is wearing quite the dapper trilby in these photos. She’d spent the whole week wearing it – taking it to Sports Day, using it as an impromptu bandage when she cut her knee, and now a wedding. That hat had lived a full life that week.

We were on the Victoria Line platform when it happened. A freak gust of air as the southbound train went through, a very piercing scream and suddenly the trilby was on the tracks.

Obviously, we did not retrieve it. As soon as we’d established that it wasn’t Eva herself down there, we started working on the “acceptance” part of the grief process. It’s not the first item of Eva’s clothing to be lost on a train track but I felt for her this time because she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Unlike last time. But I think some of our fellow passengers possibly had a heart attack when she screamed like that.

You’d think that would be enough drama for one journey home but no. A food fight in a different carriage saw us all chucked off the train at Finsbury Park and we had to wait for another one. We got to Walthamstow Central and realised that the Overground trains that had been running so smoothly earlier were part of the “reduced service” that was operating until 6PM. We started trudging slowly towards the bus station before breaking into a run when we saw our bus waiting. As we dashed through the bus station, Eva still mourning her lost hat, a tiny girl dressed as Mary Poppins yelled at us “You can do it! You can catch the bus!”

And we did. A surreal touch at the end of a nice day of family, friends, legally binding ceremonies and hat loss. Classic Saturday.

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A Right Royal Rainy Day – 31/05/22

Posted on June 4, 2022 by katese11

You may have noticed there’s been some kind of Royal occasion this week. I’m not a massive monarchist but after the last couple of years of absolute crapiness, I can totally see why people might be up for a party. As it happens, we kinda stumbled upon some of the festivities more by luck than judgement but it means that this post is, for once, on trend.

The reason we ended up in a Royal Park a few days pre-Jubilee was mainly practical. The Hollies were staying in London, near the Tate Modern, and they’d requested some kind of park visit so that the kids could all have a runaround. My initial idea was Greenwich Park but the price of the Thames Clipper has gone up astronomically of late and the Jubilee line from Southwark doesn’t quite go to the right bit of Greenwich for park-y runarounds. So instead, we decided to get the Jubilee line in the other direction and head for St James’ Park. The choice of tube line was entirely coincidental but it does seem appropriate, doesn’t it?

First though, a quick play on the Thames “beach” just outside the Tate Modern. I’m not sure I’ve ever been down to this bit of shore before but it was certainly abundant in rusty metal poles and pigeons. I warned the kids not to actually take a dip into the Thames because of the pollution but also because then their clothes would get soggy and who wants that?

Hmm, we’ll come back to that point later.

On the way to Southwark tube, we took a rather nice wander through the Bankside tunnels, full of murals and buskers singing “Johnny B Goode”. The last stretch along Blackfriars Road was longer than I remember it being but turns out, that bit of the South Bank just isn’t particularly near any tube stations. There was the option to go into Blackfriars station at one point but it didn’t seem to be the tube line bit and was distinctly the wrong side of the river for where I remembered it being. So we pressed on to Southwark.

The weather at this point wasn’t bad – I mean, there was a large black cloud rolling in over the river but there was also blue sky. A picnic was definitely not out of the question.

And how handy is the little M&S at Green Park station if you did fancy a picnic? I’d remembered it was there but thought we’d need to leave the station and cross the road to get there. No! There’s a entrance right in the station, which is super convenient. We stocked up on bread, houmous, sandwich meats, biscuits and drinks and then left the station by the South-side exit, straight into the park without any road crossing at all.

This plan was working PERFECTLY. Literally no flaws.

The sun beamed down on us as we walked through Green Park and stopped for the kids to climb a tree and scamper through a glade. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, the first hitch was that we might not be able to get from one park to the other. As we approached the Mall, there were metal barriers that ran down both sides of the road, impeding both exit from Green Park and entry to St James’ Park. This could be an issue. Green Park is nice enough but it’s pretty dull. There are very few features, and seemed to be a giant stage set up in the middle of it for the Jubilee, which meant the paths around it were busy. We’d already done some tree climbing, which is one of the few things you can do in that park so were really hoping we could get across to the playground and pelicans of St James’ Park.

The short answer was that we managed to do it. Further down the Mall, there was a crossing point which allowed some pedestrian traffic across. We thankfully scuttled through and celebrated our success with a trip to the St James’ Park loos. You have to pay 20p a shot but can use contactless to pay and the nice man was letting children go through with their parents on the same payment. So not a massive hassle.

The plan, such as it was, was still going well! It was only when we emerged from the loos and were queuing from coffee that we felt the first spots of…..rain.

This couldn’t be! The forecast said no rain till 2PM. But it definitely was. It had just turned midday at this point, so we decided to huddle under a nearby tree and eat our picnic while we waited it out.

I said earlier that we kinda stumbled upon some festivities and over lunch was when we reaped the rewards of what might otherwise have appeared to be bad choices. They seemed to be running a soundcheck for the Jubilee concert so our slightly soggy picnic at least had the benefit of some cracking showtunes. We heard “Circle of Life” by the Lion King cast and then extracts from “Phantom of the Opera”. Eva found herself a little nook in the tree and, given the circumstances, we were pretty successful at not getting wet.

We sat under the tree for an hour or so while the boys ran about with a tennis ball they’d scavenged from the beach. By the time the rain had stopped, we were ready to start walking again, in the hope of reaching the playground. We crossed the bridge in more sunshine, with the clouds on the horizon an unthreatening Elephant’s Breath grey:

Oh wait though, the clouds over the Palace were more of a Mole’s Breath grey. We might not be out of the woods yet.

We made it to the playground a full ten minutes before the next rain storm. Luckily, Eva has recently decided that she likes being rained on so was taking the opportunity to prove a point. Roo was not so convinced and joined the grown ups in huddling on benches under the trees. The other kids, however, had important sand-construction to be doing and they weren’t to be deterred by a spot of rain.

“I’m covered in sand and I have no regrets” declared Eva, as she condemned herself to definitely needing a hairwash that night.

I reckon we lasted about an hour in the playground. It’s amazing how stubbornly you can decide to enjoy a day out, even when the elements are doing their best to ruin it. As we started to leave the, I took Eva to the kids’ loos to wash her hands. We came out of the loos to the sound of “Any Dream Will Do” from the soundcheck. Perfect.

The rain had stopped by now and so we took the kids to a small fountain near the edge of the park to try and de-sand them. My plan was to catch the tube from St James’ park station back to Waterloo, where the Hollies would eventually be catching their train home from. But were these kids tube-worthy? Even after a splash at the fountain, it didn’t seem likely. So I made what might seem to be yet another poor decision. We would walk back to Waterloo.

Of course, it did rain again. The skies opened as we crossed Westminster Bridge and Eva, for all her claims to love the rain, was somewhat anxious about being on a bridge during a thunderstorm. And this truly was the most impressive storm yet.

We briefly sheltered round the back of County Hall but then decided to make a run for the cake and comfort of the Royal Festival Hall.

Well, the rain got the sand off at least. We got coffee and cake and hot chocolate in the RFH cafe and slowly dried off. The stairs were closed for some reason but we took the singing lift up to the poetry library on the 5th Floor and enjoyed a few minutes of the children sitting quietly and reading or drawing in the cubby holes before the Hollys had to go for their train.

So, several royal touchpoints for a Jubilee week – an aptly named tube line, a glimpse of the Palace, a preview of the concert, two Royal Parks and a Festival Hall that is also Royal. All without really meaning to. Happy half term everybody!

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“I Want My Hat Back” Trilogy at Little Angel Studios – 29/05/22

Posted on May 29, 2022 by katese11

Photo-by-Suzi-Corker.-Performers-Imogen-Khan-and-Simon-Lyshon

When she has a new game to play, it takes quite a lot to lure Eva out of her cave but a Little Angel show will do the trick. We were already in Islington for church but she seemed keen on the idea of heading on afterwards rather than getting home and back onto “Stardew Valley” as quickly as she could. Kudos to Little Angel. This show was aimed at 3-6-year-olds and Eva is somewhat older than that, but she is also a girl of no peril-tolerance so these gentle shows are fine by her.

“I Want My Hat Back” is billed as a trilogy but don’t worry – it won’t take up an entire waking day like the Lord of the Rings trilogy would. Instead, it’s more like a 35-minute triptych – three sweet stories revolving around how much animals love hats. Two of the stories have a slightly dark ending but it’s all for comedy effect so none of the littlies seemed particularly traumatised.

Eva was charmed by the set, which was a miniature theatre within the actual theatre we were sitting in. She later noticed an even smaller theatre-shaped set off to the left. A theatre within a theatre within a theatre! The show was performed by two actors – I believe we saw Imogen Khan and actor-director Ian Nicholson. The puppets weren’t the typical ones we usually see at Little Angel as I think they were made out of cardboard. Still, they were very versatile and I particularly enjoyed the way that the eyes moved to express all kinds of emotions. The puppets also had different variants for whether the creatures were standing, lying down or even running with windmill legs, Roadrunner-style.

The first story was, if you like, the origin story. A bear loses a hat and goes on a journey to find it. None of the stories had complex plots but it was all about the execution, and that was done with a lot of charm and humour. The language was very simple – which worked for the age of the audience – and visual effects were used to establish the changes of scene. For the first story, autumn leaves were thrown out to the audience and then for the second story, the performers blew bubbles under blue lighting to show that we were now, as Sebastian might say, Under the Sea.

Photo-by-Suzi-Corker.-Performers-Imogen-Khan

This story was Eva’s favourite because she thought that the whale – who didn’t speak but was nonetheless very expressive – was hilarious. She also maintained that it wasn’t a whale because the little fish had described it as a “big fish” and we all know that whales are mammals. Don’t let the pedant spoil this segment. Just assume that a small kleptomaniac fish isn’t well versed on animal taxonomy.

What I would recommend at this point is bringing along your own fish. I believe there’s a template and tutorial on the Little Angel website on how to make your fish but the audience is called upon to make their fish dart, dive and dance. If you don’t have a fish, you can use your hand but the children who were clutching cardboard fish looked very pleased with themselves during this segment and your child could be one of those. Mine wasn’t. But she improvised with her half-eaten baguette.

Photo-by-Suzi-Corker.-Performers-Imogen-Khan-and-Ian-NicholsonAnd so onto the third story, where two turtles find a hat and idly fantasise about what it would be like if they had two hats. This story had my favourite of the visual effects – a starry sky that encompassed the whole room and a dazzling use of discoball-technology to reflect the light. It was a beautifully wistful dreamscape and a nice contrast with the darker endings of the other two stories. That’s following the trilogy rules right there…the third party of a trilogy must always subvert your expectations.

For 35 minutes, there was a lot packed in. Three stories, what seemed like hundreds of different puppets and a lot of fun with tumbleweed. It’s a smallish space so might sell out quickly but get along and see it if you can. It’s on until the end of July.

Photo-by-Suzi-Corker.-Performers-Imogen-Khan-and-Simon-Lyshon

Disclaimer: I received free tickets in exchange for a review. All opinions remain honest and my own. 

For more details and tickets, click here

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Childfree in Sussex

Posted on May 15, 2022 by katese11

After a long week, a childfree weekend in Sussex seems like a surreal dream. But I’m here to tell myself that it did happen. And – kick me now – I’ve got lots of ‘grammable content to share with you all. It’s not my fault I used that phrase…Savage has been hanging around with her Millenial brother too much and every time we saw a sight worth seeing, she would nod knowingly and say “Now, that’s ‘grammable content”.

The annoying thing is that she was kinda right. We were staying in Worthing and it was, indeed, very ‘gramm  able. It’s a mix of sea views, Art Deco buildings and hipster art installations. Oh, and puns. So many puns. And I have photos of it all to show you!

 

First off, the sea views:

In case you’re wondering whether we swam in that sea, let me tell you that we absolutely did. There are no photos because phones don’t do that well in salt water so you’ll just have to take my word for it that Savage and I did a full 25 minutes in those icy waters. I’ve finally redeemed myself for wussing out of a swim at Bournemouth. There was also a mobile sauna right next to where we swam, which was very tempting but sadly booked up for the weekend.

Next up, those Art Deco buildings I mentioned, with a new build that looks like it could almost be Art Deco too:

We walked probably around two miles along the seafront – from our hotel to Bayside Social in the east on the Saturday afternoon and from the hotel to Marine Gardens in the west on the Sunday morning. The architecture was ever changing and an interesting mix of eras, from the brand new build above to a row of painted Victorian house just behind:

If you’re wondering why we stopped at Bayside Social, the steely grey sky in this photo should give you a clue. Shortly after I took it, it absolutely tipped it down and we dived inside for a leisurely pot of tea. Outside, there was a statue commemorating Jumbo, a baby elephant who washed up on Worthing beach. Naively, I imagined this was a happy story about a cute animal visitor but a bit of research showed that I misinterpreted the words “washed up”.

Let’s move hastily on from elephantine tragedy to hipster art installations. There was yarnbombing everywhere – a bench was covered in knitted watches and various bits of buildings had had woolly makeovers:

But possibly the most pleasing collection of artworks were the stained glass pieces along the pier, showing different aspects of local life:

 

It seems almost incongrous to go from women’s suffrage to food-based puns but that was the other notable thing about Worthing culture. I feel like these might be a marker of the more hipster residents but there were an array of street food vans available and some of them had great names, like “Taco Look at Me Now” and this fishy earworm:

Yes, for the combining of 80s hit and takeaway food, Worthing seafront cannot be beaten. There was also this one, which confused us for most of the time we were there:

As I didn’t think the Vice Squad drove around in marked vehicles. Turns out this one belonged to a catering company called Vice Puddings.

The other thing I noticed about Worthing was the world’s neatest flint walls. How aesthetically pleasing are these?

We were only in town for one night so probably only skimmed the surface of Things to See but I’m glad I can share a few of them with you. After we’d checked out of our hotel on the Sunday morning, we decided to drive to Littlehampton to see what that was like. Google Maps tells me I’d visited before, in October 2013, but it was a bit grey and windy that day and I don’t remember it particularly well because a toddler Eva had kept me up most of the night before.  This visit was far sunnier:

Littlehampton seems less gentrified than Worthing but there is plenty of fun to be had. We paddled in the sea, which was shallower and warmer than Worthing, and we had ice cream on the seafront.

There was an interesting piece of artwork that ran along the front  – its’s called The Long Bench and runs for around 1,000 feet, with some of the slats engraved with the names of local families who’d sponsored them. At times, the “bench” gets a little crazy:

And there are notices warning not to climb on them. I’m quite glad the kids weren’t with me, as I’m sure they would have found them hard to resist. There were also some white, dome-like shelters which had quite a Tatooine vibe to them:

Don’t ask how we acquired that light sabre. I’m not sure it was legit.

Away from the beach, Littlehampton is all about the old-school seaside amusements. We played minigolf, crashed into each other on the dodgems and lost a fortune on the 2p arcade:

We also did NOT REMOVE THIS BOX, tempting as it was. I have no idea what this box is but I’m very suggestible.

Sadly, I soon had to get to the station for my complicated journey home, which involved getting off a London Victoria-bound train and ending up on a much more crowded one. But let’s not dwell on the unpleasantness on that, just the loveliness of a childfree weekend at the seaside:

Just a pity we didn’t get to go on the pedalos!

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