The Cat's Mother said we were going to spend an evening with Simon Cowell. First class entertainment I thought. As you will all know and appreciate, I'm an avid fan of X-Factor, and often watch repeats when I've exhausted my collection of TOWIE DVDs. So you can imagine the shock when it turns out that it was Simon Callow we were seeing at the Theatre Royal in Brighton last Monday. Worse still he was giving a solo performance (c'mon you know that Girls Aloud wouldn't be half as good if it was just the Ginger One) and it was Dickens. Charles Dickens. I don't know if you've ever tried to read any of his stuff, but frankly my dears it's bloody hard going. Naturally enough to make this all go a little better (less worse) we dined at Caves A Fromage (who should be paying me for the number of times I plug the best cheese, chacuterie and wine shop in the world. IMHO). As it turned out I drank nearly a whole bottle of red wine. So it's testament to the abilities of Mr Callow that I was riveted throughout his performances of Mr Chops and Dr Marigold. It was just remarkable that he managed to bring to life words that would have most schoolboys (and girls) weeping into their text books. So even if you don't like Mr Dickens, if you get the chance, give this a whirl. To cap the evening off, we leapt on a bus (there were no taxis as the sky had opened and rain was falling) and the driver didn't have the heart to charge us the £12.50 for the 10 minute journey it took us to get home. Rumour has it this is the first time The Cat's Mother has been on a bus in thirty years.
Simon Callow had followed a day in Lewes for The Cat's Mother and I as we procured tickets for the somewhat lively bonfire celebrations they have there. It's the one occasion you can hear tens of thousands of folk chanting 'Burn the catholics' 'Burn the Pope' without threat of arrest from Her Majesty's Constabulary. We managed to get the tickets, so I'll no doubt tell all after the event....and in the hope we haven't all been burnt to a cinder or blown up by a firecracker. In this health and safety obsessed age it never ceases to amaze me that the celebrations in Lewes are allowed. I always found Lewes to be a slightly odd and spooky place, and have become convinced that every ancient dwelling contains a witches coven. It's very, very beautiful...and at the heart of the town is a brewery which you can tour around. That is if you can face the two year wait, such is the popularity of the place. I may not have the best bar technique, but frankly two years is a long to wait to be served, even if it is my round.
Tuesday we had another sunny day, and headed round the Brighton Wheel before returning to Epping Forest and work on Wednesday and Thursday and the opportunity to re-engage with the outside world. I was disappointed to have missed the Tory rebellion against David Cameron. Evidently too many country squires still can't see any benefit to being in bed with Johnnie Foreigner. And as it turns out the Greeks are doing their utmost to prove them right. With a referendum which will almost inevitably end up with the Greeks rejecting the EU solution for their fiscal issues, we'll all be stuffed like one of their olive leaves. Which gives me the perfect opportunity to point out that, as I understand it, it was that fine banking institution Goldman Sachs that enabled them to cook the books in the first place.
