Where I realise again that a 'short walk' is rarely short.

My awareness of distances in London isn’t great, mainly because for years, I always travelled by Tube, and never really went out of the centre.

We’re having our first cocktail of the evening in Verve, and when I’m assured by Dean that the restaurant ‘isn’t far’, I foolishly believe him. I’ve already changed into the shoes that I cannot walk in*, to stand and pose in the bar, and decide that, if it’s not too far, I can walk in them, and not have to go through the hassle of changing them again.

‘Not far’ turns out to be about a mile. Halfway, having been assured that we were nearly there, and of course, because you just have to make an entrance, Coza also changes her shoes, which happen to be the same as mine, just a different colour. She’s soon wondering how I’ve managed to walk so far in them already.

By the time Piccadilly is in sight, I’ve slowed down a lot, and my feet are complaining, but, quite surprisingly, I’m not. I have discovered that walking in them is helped by having had some alcohol.

Meanwhile, Director Boy is some distance ahead, having realised that walking anywhere takes considerably longer with girls in heels. Finally we cross the road, and arrive at the restaurant (which is fabulous, and sadly doesn’t allow photography**, so I can only show you the link).

I have to admit that the seat, and the glass of champagne is extremely welcome!

*I walked across two roads, and into a theatre in them in January, and that was quite enough.

**which is why I'm posing with Beau Brummel

Diet Update

When I began this diet at the beginning of February, my first target was to lose half a stone by 21 March, so that I could get into a new dress for Dean’s birthday meal. It hasn't been easy, but I've tried, in the main, to cut out my usual 'unhealthy' snacks, and replace them with things like fruit, and where I can, to stick to around 1500 calories a day. Although there were quite a few lapses, I made it.

I ate, and drank, quite a lot at the weekend. Cocktails, champagne, a fabulous meal, fish and chips, more chips, and crisps. But I also did quite a bit of walking. The good news – at my weigh-in this morning, I’ve still lost half a stone.

For my next target, I want to get another half stone off. To set myself something to aim for, I want to lose this before the end of May.

Here goes!

‘I guess that’s not a pub, is it?’

For our walk this week (for we are now officially ‘in training’ you know*), V suggested that I drive her up to Osmotherley, where she was going to spend the weekend in their new caravan, and walk from there.

Once we arrived, bags duly deposited at said caravan, we went down into the village, and quickly discovered that Osmotherley is stuck in a bit of a time warp. It has three pubs, which range from the ‘quick pint for serious walkers’ standard, to the ‘Rennie Mackintosh décor and Molton Brown toiletries’ one, where we had coffee – the meals there being a bit rich for our blood outside a special occasion. It also has a walking shop, a village store, and a village hall, which is part time Post Office, cinema, and presumably, village hall. Time it wrong, as we did, and you’ll find chairs being put out for the cinema rather than being able to buy a stamp.

We also had to ask directions to the start of our walk in the shop, as the instructions told us to go by the antique shop, which has since closed.

Once on our way, though, it was glorious. We climbed along part of the Cleveland Way, and were rewarded with beautiful views. It actually felt like Spring for the first time, with the sun on our backs. By around 2, we’d almost completed 5 miles, and still felt quite fresh. We then realised that, normally, we’d stop en route, which is why it takes us longer.

So we headed back into the village, and had a bowl of soup at the third pub (mid range, very nice), before heading back to the caravan park, and leaving the car, setting off to walk another two miles, round the reservoir – it was so lovely, you could have been in the lakes or Scotland.

We are so lucky to live in an area where such places are less than an hour’s drive away. We get to look at the beautiful scenery, and also get fitter. In all, we did around 7 miles, and we’ve never done that before!

* I have been sent a training schedule, which shows the training plan over the 10 weeks prior to the walk. Hmmm, like that’s ever going to happen!

It's a long way from Blue Peter

After a flurry of posts in January, you may think that I’d forgotten about a certain Mr Jones again.

Oh no! For look what I found in Attitude* Magazine. If you can drag your eyes away from the pics, (for there are a few of them, though I do have issues with the one of his torso without his head!) it's a pretty good interview. They say he's 'naughty, but not too naughty, and nice, but not too nice'. Just as I've always thought.

It’s all a very long way from Blue Peter, that’s for sure.

*yes, it’s a gay man’s mag. So what’s it full of – pics of cute boys, that’s what!

Update

I’m just coming to the end of a week off work. I had leave left to take, as I’d cancelled a week back in January, and it’s ‘use it, or lose it’ by the end of March.

So, of course, I’ve been too busy to keep up to date on here. When I say I ‘had a week off’, I also went to a conference in Birmingham, to which we added shopping, I went walking on Friday, and then have been in London over the weekend. So, all pretty hectic. Suffice to say, I am now skint till payday – which, thankfully, is Friday.

Just beautiful!

Comic Relief only comes round every two years. This year's was a hell of an achievement in fundraising terms. This may have had something (ok, maybe only a little) to do with the chap above.

I don’t normally ring up and donate, but when David Tennant looks at you directly from the TV screen and asks you for money, well, who could resist a skinny boy in a suit?

Where I bake

Because I actually can. I just don't very much.

I made cakes* for Red Nose Day. They were going to be cookies** until I saw the recipe. I reverted to my stalwart cake recipe.

It all got a bit messy, but they're done, and they're going to work tomorrow***

* or, in my best Yorkshire - buns
** or rather - biscuits
*** despite a discussion on the way home yesterday, I haven't laced them with anything!

Whatever happens, I will still carry a handbag!

It’s only when I’m showing Corinne some of the photos on my camera that I realise we’ve already done a lot of walking this year. And we haven’t even been put off by the weather. I stand accused of not looking like a handbag walker!

However, the ‘new social group’* also do a lot of walking. There are details in their newsletter about the rambles, and initially I was quite interested. It was when I read on, and saw that they classed 11 miles as a ‘short stroll’, that I got a bit scared. Talking to them, they all seem to regularly walk about 10 miles, and they also *horror* talk about ‘packed lunches’! Where’s the fun in that? Who wants to be halfway up a hill eating a soggy sandwich?

Yesterday, I went walking with the ladies group from a few weeks ago. We did about 5 miles around Ripley. As I’d done the walk this time last year, and, more importantly, I had the book, I became walk leader. The blustery sunny day turned to a blustery cloudy one, and it started to sleet, just as we turned into the wind. Hard, face stinging sleet. I had to put my hood up, and fasten the jacket up across the lower half of my face. My pashmina got soaking wet, and it rained into my handbag! But we laughed, and headed for the tea shop to warm up and dry out, and to plan our next walk. We all felt very intrepid, and I think I’ve found my level.

*at the moment, I’m still going to call them that. They seem a friendly bunch.

At least this time we got chips

‘Are you a big fan of Alistair?’

The question is asked in all innocence, given I’ve never met this person before. I don’t know what to say. I can’t just say ‘yes’, not anymore. There’s a whole world there that can’t be explained in a simple answer to a question in a crowded pub. I just smile.

Much later, a beer fuelled Griffin climbs onto the banisters, and makes us laugh because of all the memories it brings back. It’s one of those moments of craziness that has us still here getting on for 6 years later. He’s clearly reluctant to stop performing, and we’ve danced all night.

Finally, after he finishes, Coza nips onto the ‘stage’ area, and nabs the set list ‘for old times sake’. The sound man turns to us ‘you want to get him to sign that for you’.

We look at each other and smile. All those signatures, some of which are still on my desk as I type this.

‘No, really, we don’t’.

When I booked, I wasn't expecting to be part of the show

When I was studying modern British theatre at Uni, one of my favourite books was Max Stafford-Clark’s Letters to George, in which he writes about his 1988 production of The Recruiting Officer, which played alongside Our Country’s Good.

One of my favourite plays that I’ve acted in is Stephen Jeffreys The Libertine, so when I saw that there was an Out of Joint/Sydney Theatre Company tour of The Convict’s Opera, directed by Stafford Clark and written by Jeffreys, I just knew I had to go.

I’d got a very good seat in the fourth row, so I was just settling down for the start when a chap came on stage. Now, usually this is not a good sign, and my mind immediately goes ‘oho, who’s not in it!’

He introduced himself as the company stage manager. ‘Ladies and gentleman, we’re looking for six volunteers to sit on stage’. He gestured to areas marked out like theatre boxes. ‘We need at least one man’.

I looked around me. I already knew from our trip to ‘dress as a pirate night’ that the theatregoers of Leeds don’t want to be conspicuous. Let’s say there wasn’t exactly a rush. I volunteered, so did the girl sitting next to me, and one more girl from further back.

‘We still need a guy’. There was still very little response, just a few nervous murmurs. Eventually a boy who looked about 15 or 16 came forward. The CSM took us to the side of the stage, and told us what we had to do, which was just to interact with the actors when they came over, to hold something if we were asked to, and to shout out in the second act. Yes, we had a line!

Taking my seat, I realised the view wasn’t as good. But did I care? Not a jot. I was on stage, in a Max Stafford-Clark production, with actors looking right at me. I was in heaven! The poor boy next to me, who told me he did quite a lot of acting at the WYP, seemed utterly terrified, particularly when kissed 'Mrs Peacham'. I did wonder if he’d make a run for it at the interval. Sadly, my level of interaction didn’t involve getting kissed by anyone.

Basically, it’s the story of The Beggar’s Opera performed by convicts on a ship bound for Australia, so there are many similarities to the themes of Our Country’s Good. They used both original songs, and some modern numbers which fitted well with the themes. That said, it’s not such a good play as OCG, as you get a lot of Beggar’s Opera, and perhaps less than you’d like of the back story of the convicts, and some storyline tended to come to nothing, but then it was played mainly for comedy, and I’d have liked a few darker shades.

Finally, it came to our line. We just had to shout ‘a reprieve’ three times, whilst the opposite side shouted ‘no reprieve’. Still, we got our own curtain call.

I always say that if I can’t be on stage, I want to see the whites of the eyes. This time, I got both.

Looking down, and up again

It’s a truth that when I’m busy, I have little time to blog, and have to make a special effort to write about things. Which is why many significant events go by unrecorded on here. If I’m writing a lot, then I’m doing less, and I’ve been writing quite a bit recently.

Until the end of January, things were pretty hectic on the social front, and then I hit the point, just after the trip to London, when I had hardly anything booked. No theatre, which hadn’t been the case for about two years, because of my forward bookings. February was looking pretty bleak. And it’s a pretty bleak month to start with.

So, over the last few weeks, I’ve been on a bit of a mission to get things in the diary, and it’s coming together. Two trips to the theatre, a couple of days at Scarborough Literary Festival, another trip to London, and some discussions about holidays.

Then last week, I saw an advert on the local paper for the York launch of a social group. Spice are pretty well known, I know a friend of a friend who joined some time ago, and loves it, but lots of the events have been based around Leeds, Huddersfield or even, *shudder*, Sheffield.

It took a bit of organising to get back in time to go along to the launch event at Kennedy’s* on Thursday night, but I made it.

J came along as well, and it was quite funny to look at us both working the room, trying to talk to as many people as possible. There were a lot of new people there, and a few existing members, who were there to tell the newbies about it, though I felt we were working harder than they were. It’s sadly true that once you get involved in any group, you tend to become part of a sub-set (which I’m not calling a clique, but often is) and then seem less welcoming to new people. They all seemed pretty normal. Or as normal as I would want them to be, which means up for doing stuff.

There was an offer of three months free membership, for yes, you have to pay for the privilege of hopefully making new friends. It’s an opportunity to go to a few things, and see what I think, so I signed up. There seem to be a lot of events on at any rate.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

*I know it’s the Bar with no atmosphere, but I didn’t hold that against them.

It has to be said, it's a good place for spotting people

We're having dinner once again at The Liner.

C looks up.
'Oh, look, Robbie Coltrane is just walking past'
I look. Sure enough the unmistakable figure of Robbie Coltrane is walking out of the hotel, and down the street.

'He looks much smaller in real life'
I explain that this is, sadly, often true of actors.
'No, I mean, he looks a lot bigger when he's in the Harry Potter films'

'That could be because he's playing a giant!'

Diet Update

Four weeks in

Pounds lost: 6 (and that's despite the fish and chips on Weds night)

As my target was to lose half a stone by the weekend of 21st March, I'm quite happy with this. Can't afford to slacken up though!