Scenes from G-A-Y at the Astoria Sunday 02:08. Jason Donnovan singing live. The photo can't capture the horror a gaunt, aged poxy-ridden (he had some sort of flu) man he actually was. Guess those years of class A drugs took their toll... The punters loved Jason, but I think I was too sober to get into that. Oh to be at the Astoria on the wrong night. In two weeks time Madge will be there performing live to plug her new album release "Confessions on A Dance Floor"... Timing is everything... 

Theatre: Macbeth and the night of woodies

On Friday evening I caught the opportunity to see the travelling production of Macbeth at the Almedia. It was a one-man version of the show starring Stephen Dillane (he starred opposite Nicole in The Hours). Alas it wasn't the most interesting of shows to see. The words pretentious and rubbish come to mind when describing it. You have to hand it to a director who manages to strip all the nuances and power from a story and just leave you there trying to work out what's going on while an actor changes voice, speaks in French at times (a French lady Macbeth anyone – ooh la lah!), and fights to be heard above music screeches that were composed specifically for this production.

It is the sort of show however that some people have loved, and its short run is practically sold out. I wondered how some of the audience managed to applaud after 100 minutes of squirming and restlessness. I didn't. It was the first time since seeing the English foghorn Elaine Paige that I wanted to boo. I decided non applause and folding my arms with the production's luvvies surrounding me was enough of a statement.

Actually the only thing I did like about it was the black sand which formed the basis of the stage. It looked great and Dillane writhed and wriggled all over it which was interesting to watch. One of the more interesting aspects of the evening was that Woody Harrelson was in the audience. He will be appearing in Night of the Iguana which is set to open on the West End shortly. He showed up wearing trainers and a track suit and beanie to watch this show (no best dressed awards there). Before the curtain went up he also went to the bathroom and it was there as I was wiping my hands that I heard a fart emanating from the cubicle he was in. So there you have it. First case of celebrity flatulence I have heard all the time while being in London. Let's hope it won't be the last.

Concert: Renée Fleming

I knew it was going to be a bit of a treat last night when Renée Fleming walked on stage in a sensational Vivienne Westwood gown and the audience at the Barbican started cheering and carrying on. This was even before she sung a note. As she would later tell us during the course of the evening that the programme was something she was trying out with pianist Hartmut Höll and there really was something for everyone in it and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves – especially Renée.

The recital in the first half consisted of songs by Purcell and George Crumb. Fleming gave some background on why Crumb was a particular favourite of hers, noting that while as a composer he wrote rather dark moody music, in real life he is such an unassuming character he offered to fix a neighbours lawn mower (so there!). André Previn, Alban Berg and Schumann completed the second half and by the end of it all the audience was completely taken by her. It was what the punters had come for. And she is such an entertaining singer to watch.

All this fantastic singing was enough to make one get in line and wait for half an hour for her to sign one of her CDs after the concert. I wasn't the only one either. A thought I was such a groupee but the only reason he didn't join the long line up of devotees was because her Handel arias CD had sold out and Barbican staff informed everyone waiting that Ms Fleming would only be signing her merchandise that was on sale. "So she won't be signing your left buttock!" I told him. He then skulked off to the bar.  She was such a lovely person that it was worth the wait.  

Overheard at the gym...

Australian: Did you go out on the weekend?
Other guy: Yeah it was a big night on Sunday…
Australian: Did you take any pills to get you through it?
Other guy: Yeah had a few things, how about you?
Australian: Yeah me too, although the one I like the clubs don't like here…
Other guy: Yeah GHB is good. I did a bit of K too…
Australian: I'm not a fan of K. I like to know where my feet are…
Other guy: Some of my friends don't like it because they think it is a horse tranquilizer, but it must be okay if paramedics use it…
Australian: Yeah I know what you mean. I try and do the cryptic crossword to make up for those brain cells I am killing off…

TV: Rome

Last night the first episode of the new series on Rome aired so I was among the 6.6million people who tuned in to watch it. After a few minutes of viewing I couldn't help but think that for a show about Rome there were an awful lot of maps of Tasmania on display. Getting past the beaver and buttock shots (which were interspersed amongst gore galore – which in retrospect was an inappropriate time to be eating lasagne) there was some sort of story, which potentially could be quite interesting over the next ten weeks, but I think the story isn't the drawcard here. Get the punters in by having freshly sacrificed bovine blood rubbed over Atia's tits is the drawcard. As fascinating as all that is it just isn't as fun as A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum…

Geography: out and about...

There is a north / south divide between Londoners, which is silly really as there are crap parts of London both north and south of the Thames. Only the other day I was taunting somebody in NW London over their local unisex sauna that they described was where you could pick up an Eastern European sex slave. Welcome to the new Europe.

In SW2 where I am now located there isn't much of that. Although on the weekend a strange man (who was not local) knocked on the door and asked if A would mind "holding his things" for a little while… Apart from that it is a nice quiet street, in easy walking distance to Balham and Streatham Hill, although personally I prefer the extra walk to Balham than Streatham Hill which has to have one of the crappiest high streets in Britain.

Well this arrangement is temporary and depending on the outcome of a few things my location will change quite drastically in the next week or so…

Exhibitions: Diane Arbus

Yesterday I caught the Diane Arbus photography retrospective at the V&A. It was quite an amazing and fairly extensive exhibition of her work. Arbus was famous for her photographs mostly shot in New York from the sixties up until her suicide in 1971. The exhibition originated in San Francisco MOMA and at the moment you can't go anywhere on the tube without the V&A's ad for the show featuring an Arbus photo of a drag queen holding a cigarette, mouth partly open and hair in rollers. Don't know if that sort of imagery will bring the punters in but it certainly grabs your attention underground…

At the exhibition there were quite a lot of photographs to get through in the hour I set aside to see it. The exhibition also included letters, proofs and other paraphernalia relating to her life and gave some insight into the inspiration for her photographs of eccentric yet everyday scenes. You don't get much of a sense of why she may have killed herself at the age of 48 (although her living conditions around the 1970s looked a bit dire) but you do get a great sense of her perspective.

And it became apparent to me that her iconic photographs from this period were recognisable even before realising who the hell she was. Fortunately there is a Nicole Kidman film in the works based on an unauthorised biography. The film is tentatively titled Fur so no doubt with a title like that rampant lesbianism will feature (which was something that wasn't touched upon in the exhibition either)…

Scenes from Soho Thursday 23:29. After failing to get into a pub on the Southbank where an Australian TV programme was being filmed, Ad and I walked back into Soho and went to a more familiar bar that had a much more cheekier display. The bar dancer moved like he was imitating a spin cycle on a front loader, but the punters seemed to like that anyway... 

Left Baggage

On Saturday catching a tube back home someone left a bag in the car I was travelling. The first thing I knew of this was when a passenger pulled the emergency alarm. The rest of us just sat there as the passenger informed the driver of the situation. He must have been awfully worried about this piece of left baggage as he took off while the rest of us just stayed on the car. The driver appeared. He asked the car if anyone owned the bag. Nobody did. I looked at the bag. It was just across from me. It looked very thin. There was a small child sitting there earlier, maybe it was hers. Anyway, surely it was much too thin to hold an Indian Tupperware containing some sort of explosive device. So I just sat there like everyone else. Surely it was harmless.  Station security must have thought so too as after a few minutes a man appeared and grabbed the thing and the journey continued on…

Idle Friday Lunchtime Chatter

Paul: I live near Tooting Bec Common now
Fa: Well you will have to get yourself a dog so you can walk it in the common
Paul: Yes I notice that dog walking or walking small children is the popular thing to do there
Fa: Hmm... I would just stick to the dog...

Scenes from SW2 Thursday 11:35. The morning milk run...  

News: London is Lousy?

Another rant from Gwyneth this week has set everyone talking. She calls customer service here rubbish and complains about the dirty streets and the weather. Actually she is sounding more and more like a local…

Her best advice though was to bring your cashmere sweater when coming to Britain. Of course it is worth noting that cute little outfits that cost a fortune carry no cachet with Londoners. Dress shabby.

And of course customer service here IS rubbish. I used a pretty lousy minicab service the other night to get to SW2 and was charged an extra £5 for carrying luggage. Ok so it was a little TV, a monster suitcase and a few boxes but I still thought that was outrageous. I suspected I was being scammed here but in the end I couldn't be arsed to haggle over it. I just made a mental note to write about it on the blog and to avoid that company in future…

Housekeeping...

I will be moving out of WC1 this week. I will miss living in zone 1, and having the view of the BT tower from my bedroom window. Well maybe for some other time…

Scenes from South London Monday 13:32 - Approaching Clapham Junction on a foggy day... 

News: Chicken's off

A bird in the hand may be worth throwing in the bush as after a week of scaring the general population with threats of 50,000 deaths in the UK from an outbreak of avian flu, this week the threat is what it will do to chicken sales? While there actually may be no link between the flu and dead chickens, all this talk of diseased birds are certainly putting one off a chicken roast for now. How the rest of Chicken mad Britain reacts is another matter…    

Movies: Wallace and Gromit

Caught the new Wallace and Gromit movie last night. As it had just come out (in time for the school holidays here) it was particularly popular with the punters. A wasn't sure about seeing such a high culture film but I suggested that since it is a hit in cinemas in several countries it could be considered to be selling British culture to the world.

Indeed there were a lot of typically British things on display including:

• A passionate love for not killing animals
  
• Overzealous gardening (and it all looked very organic)
  
• Upper class twits and eccentric town folk
  
• Edwardian terrace housing, and
  
• The usual red telephone boxes and post boxes

So who could ask for anything more? On the downside the Odeon cinema where I saw it is such rubbish. It is only five minutes away so it is handy but it smells across between a toilet and a candy store. Indeed the threadbare carpet has a stickiness about it that makes you wonder about how it got that way. Perhaps children gorging on fruit pastilles vomited them up at various places.

The other downside to seeing it at the cinema was that you were inflicted with a very bad computer animation featuring penguins that apparently was a plug for the upcoming release of Madagascar on DVD. It was loud, noisy and looked like rubbish… I think one kid in the entire audience laughed at it (presumably she has special needs).

News: Northern Line

Golders green station
Originally uploaded by kirwilliam.

Northern Line trains being refitted with safety equipment at Golders Green.

This week everyone has been an expert on trip-cocks and other things that stop trains when tube drivers do a SPAD. The Northern Line resumed a very limited service tonight for the first time since Wednesday evening. But it will be another few days before there is anything like a regular service… A good time to be on holiday…

Scenes from WC1 Saturday 10:33. Morning mist... 

Life Lessons of the week

It has been a bit of a quiet week while I sort out some all-important matters (such as whether I am staying here in London beyond November). This weekend however I have started to move my things out of WC1. I will say goodbye to all the delights and conveniences of Zone 1 living (such as being able to walk to the gym, to Covent Garden, to Soho) and will be staying temporarily in Zone 3.

This week my flatmate R was also at home on holiday so it was a bit of the idle life this week.  R and I were reflecting on the past few months this week and I would have to say that my time here has been the best of all my living experiences in London. No prissy queens, no heavily medicated boyfriends, just good sensible living, with a smattering of gentlemen callers. Actually this week it has been more like lashings on R's part I don't know how he has the stamina to keep up, but I digress…

Reflecting on it all R mentioned that he had sussed me out pretty quickly, but what I didn't mention to him was what made me interested in this place. I remember that day in February well. Checking out the flat I went to the bathroom and noticed skid-marks in the toilet bowl. I figured that if somebody was that casual about not cleaning the toilet when strangers were coming over to check out their place then they couldn't be all that bad to live with. So that is my flat-hunting tip in London – check the lavatory for skid marks.  

Scenes from the supermarket Monday 21:07. Sarnies in a box for sale.  

News: Squirrels on Crack

Shocking news over the weekend. Not of cocaine being found in Boy George's apartment in New York (who would have thought?!), but of South London squirrels on crack. Not content to just hide nuts for the winter they are digging up stashes of drugs buried by the locals for later use. Brockwell Park is definitely worth an autumn visit now in search of dazed and confused rodents.



And speaking of Boy George, there is the tragedy of his arrival at Heathrow yesterday. After wondering for years why he wears all that hideous makeup the truth is that he is concealing an even more hideous reality. He looks like the rough trade you find at The Black Cap on a slow night… Put the makeup back on!

Bar Chatter

Ad and I were talking to some Austrians at a bar in Soho on Friday night…

Ad: Well Austria's greatest contribution to society was Hitler wasn't it?
Austrian Woman: You are so rude!
Paul (to the woman): Yes he's terrible. And if the drinks weren't so expensive I'd tell you to throw your glass of wine at him…

Scenes from W1 approaching Dickens and Jones Saturday 12:50 - Does anyone still wear a wrap? 

Television Torture

On Thursday evening I travelled out to White City to the BBC Television Centre to watch a taping of a variety show on musicals. It was two years since I last did this and forgot that television recordings are a five hour odyssey.

At the time I thought it was just because I was seeing a taping of Celebrity Mastermind which made it dull, but this was an odyssey too. It was one full of bad jokes (the warm up man used the line "dirty stinkin' gypos" which I thought surely wasn't very BBC-ish), hideous sets, and endless repeats of poorly arranged songs. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, they managed to find an arrangement to do so.

Television is a curious thing as well as what makes it what it is, is local celebrities and local in-jokes, so it is a difficult thing to appreciate culturally as well if you have not had the years of exposure to it. The host was a typical garden variety smarmy type who had hosted several game shows and curiously seemed to be well-liked by the punters. It must be something about the magic of television that I wasn't getting here, or there was a cultural gap...

Having said that, on the plus side, there was very little of the usual Musical numbers that I feared (although they may have recorded those Phantom and Les Miz numbers in previous episodes). Two numbers – a jazz version of "Summertime" and a club-act style version of "What I did For Love" actually sounded pretty darn good too. It wasn't bad hearing those twice, but for the remaining four-and-a-half hours it was less torch song and just more torture.

The recording was made for a series to be aired in January on Saturday nights on BBC1, so it will be perfect for that sort of timeslot when everyone is at home and miserable so why not inflict a cheesy show on the punters – well the ones that can't be arsed getting out on a Saturday evening….