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Somewhere that's green: Potty the Plant at Wiltons Music Hall

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"I'm Potty the Plant," sings a potted plant in this odd little fringe concept of a show. It's hard not to get the tune out of your head, even if the show is brief. It's an earworm for a show that features a worm-like plant as a puppet. And given the show's brevity, running at only an hour, it's hard to get too annoyed by a lack of a coherent story, even if it still seems like the show could use a bit more development (which is underway). It has made its London debut at Wilton's Music Hall. The premise is that Potty, the plant, lives in the hospital office of Dr Acula (geddit?) and dreams of a life with the cleaning lady Miss Lacey (Lucy Appleton). But Dr Acula might be responsible for why all these children are disappearing while trying to romance Miss Lacey for her family's money that she doesn't have. Three nurses are on the case, trying to solve the mystery.  If the show settled on a convincing plot, location and set of characters, it could ...
Travel continued: Its not the destination, its the journey...

Getting to and from a destination is part of the fun of going by train. On the return leg yesterday from Lille to Waterloo it was a little more interesting than normal. It sort of went like this:
  1. Two small bottles of Bordeaux had certainly made me comfortable and relaxed as we went into the Euro Tunnel. It also took its toll on the bladder.
  2. Making my way to the bathroom I noticed I was being watched. When one is getting checked out it is always worth checking back.
  3. After leaving the bathroom I got the surprise of my life to see that he was right outside.
  4. At this point I explained to my colleagues at work (for the sake of brevity among other things) that I struck up a conversation, but that wasn't the case. Not expecting anyone outside the bathroom as I rolled back the door I was a tad startled and retreated back to my seat. Afterall, there is no mile-high club on a high speed train surely... But returning to my seat I did position myself so I had a full view of the car - and could be seen from key vantage points...
  5. After he returned to his seat there was enough eyes-over-the-top-of-the-large-comfy-train-seats to make it worth the while for him to get up and walk all the way to the end of the car to pick up a complimentary newspaper - which just so happened to be right behind my seat.
  6. Realising that opportunity wasn't knocking it was practically kicking down the door I turned off the iPOD and went over to the newspapers as well... This time a conversation ensued. All the way from somewhere in Kent to Waterloo.
  7. Much witty repartee ensued. The Bordeaux probably helped me anyway... His name as A and he had taken his parents to Bruges and I told him I was traveling solo from Lyon for the fun of it. He gave me his card and we exchanged numbers
Whatever happens next is anybody's guess but it did confirm that traveling solo can have its rewards. Sure it is supposed to be good confidence building and all that sort of thing, but even better is that whether it is getting interesting service at a restaurant or meeting strangers on a train you just never know what Dame Fortune has in store...

And the story continues with dinner and a play tomorrow night...

Repartee on the Eurostar

A: So where in London do you live?
Paul: In the Bloomsbury area...
A: Oh you know what they say about people who live in Bloomsbury. They live in squares and love all around.
Paul: Well just as well I don't live in a square...

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