In The Kitchen At Parties

We were kindly invited to a party by @TheOfficialMWF, entertained by grand kitchen creator Michael Wilkinson and Chef @MichelRouxJr, who provided the gorgeous canapés. We took some photos.

Michael Wilkinson, our charming and colourful host.

A Pre smoked salmon & quails egg-fueled crowd.

"Can you make it out to Gordon Ramsay, that's R. A. M.."

Ritz® Crackers have a lot to live up to.

Sebastian, assembler of canapés and assistant to the Chef

Cheers!

Chef Michel Roux [I offered to wash up]

Don Quixote: A Restricted Review

Last night to The Royal Opera House for Don Quixote; a ballet. In case you've never been, it's like a play with much less talking and more music, or a prom with tons more dancing. Pre-show snack was a jumbo sausage roll and a banana from the Sainsbury's opposite Holborn tube, £2:10. 

The story revolves around the titular Don, seemingly going off his trolley and onto a giant robot horse, followed by a tiny man in lots of padding called Sancho. Sancho drinks, gets beaten up by girls and is carried off by Dementors before making a triumphant return in time to see Don ride off into the sunset on his giant robot horse.

A curtain, yesterday.

That's a GIANT ROBOT HORSE. The ears twitch and everything.

There's also a soppy old love story with dad not letting daughter see the one she loves and wanting her to marry the fop instead. Only scene-changes and gypsy bullfighters can make sense prevail. A giant robot horse! It's all magical.

I lost count of how many were in the orchestra; it was at least 38. We had a good view of the brass section, dressed in dicky bows despite playing in a pit. They looked relaxed throughout, very much the orchestra in form. The conductor had as many curtain calls as the dancers which seemed a bit rich.

"It's not a real horse." "Sshh."

Paul Hogan was right about the trousers. I mean, what if there's an accident?

At one point one of the 'rinas dropped her fan - do you think they have little huddles before the show for such moments? The others could have thrown their fans to the ground in solidarity, but no. The final flourish of that section had the girls posing impossibly on one toe, waving their fans like no tomorrow. Our friend went for *hand on hip* which was a nice compromise.

Look at him milking it - didn't dance a single step!

At the end the story takes a rest while the stars do their final showing off floor exercise. These people are in the absolute peak of physical condition and deserve every "bravo". Go and see 'Don Quixote' at The Royal Opera House if you can.

See, they did all the work and have to sneak out the side of the curtain. There's no justice.

An enormous THANK YOU to @msmarchers for the chance to enjoy such a fantastic evening. x

Trouble With Boris

"Your back wheel's following you, if you're lucky."

An experiment was carried out, removed, and another one brought in in its place. Over 24 hours, spread over 2 days, we would find out how good the Boris Bikes are. Our perspective only.

For £2 you can hire a Borispeed for 24 hours. This sounds like a sweet deal and it is, as long as you follow some procedures. First you pay for your 24 hours then, and only then, you repost your credit/debit card to receive your release codes. You tap these codes on the bike dock until it flashes green - then wrestle the rather heavy machine out of its housing. There is a knack involving a lifting motion but most people we saw appeared red-faced and bruised before getting on.

The first docking station we found was full of bikes - this is not a good sign, it means the payment/ticket machine is not working.

The next station had a working payment screen but all the bikes were showing a red light and couldn't be removed; so we had tickets for that station but no bike to ride [the tickets are 'live' for 10 minutes, becoming void thereafter and not transferable to another station].

Once on your bike, to avoid paying more you must dock and re-hire within 30 minutes. Go over and you are charged an extra £1 - go over your 24 hours and it's £150 added to your card.

Aaaanyway. The third station we found had the holy trinity of working screen, working bikes and available bikes. We high-fived, adjusted our saddles [big], checked our gears [3], brakes [hefty] and were off.

For about 20 minutes all is well, then the spectre of extra payment starts nagging. We found a place to dock but there were no bikes available to take out; another walk....

All the stations we saw had little crowds of confused tourists, either trying to work out the payment process or wondering why the bike with a red light flashing couldn't be wrestled out of its home.

Our next ride went over the half-hour. I mean, life's too short right?

Fair game [10 points for a direct hit].

It was nice going through Hyde Park, moaning at the dozy pedestrians instead of walking through Hyde Park moaning at the dozy cyclists. Tip: if you're english, the little "brring-brring" bell is a viable and acceptable means of warning folks you are about to stove them in two from behind. Tourists, who are less reserved, keep theirs going non-stop and expect you to respond with a smile. Join in. Boris, you might want to add Raleigh Chopper-style saddles for hipsters and baby Boris bikes for the littles. You're welcome. Also, these bikes have CONSTANTLY flashing lights. CONSTANTLY. That means Boris Johnson has discovered perpetual motion and kept it mainly to himself.

The Borissettes,  including Invisible Kevin third from left. Note they're not moving, Boris Johnson.

We started late on Saturday afternoon and docked our last bikes near the Albert Hall 23-and-a-bit hours later. The station contained an almost full rack of bikes and a broken payment point.

"Get off and milk it!" etc.