Sunday 30th December 2012

And good afternoon and welcome to Sunday. Or at least I think it's Sunday. At Christmas all days blend into one, and with the weather being largely damp and grey, one day really is like another. Doubly so with little on TV and football every couple of days.



But we can see the fag end of the year approaching, and tonight I'm going to try to make bubble and squeak as we have lots of vegetables left over from the roast dinners we have had over the last week. The recipe I have seen online suggests adding garlic, which seems exotic to me......



Thursday, Jools had to go into work to man the phones and finish the filing. So I was left at home, and the plan was to write the audit report from Sprogo, but three carrier bags of family photos to sort through and scan meant I did that instead. I had stuff from BBC radio on the i-player. It was a great day, whilst outside the rain hammered down the windows.



Friday morning we did the Tesco shop: we had not been there for a couple of weeks, and needed just milk and veg, so planned it like a military operation; in and out all by eight o'clock, and were back home eating breakfast before most of Dover were even awake.



Friday went as much as Thursday, except Jools did not have to work, so she carried on and finished the Lego VW Campervan, whilst I messed around with more photos; scanning and the such.

Saturday morning the wind did blow, but it was at least dry to start with. We headed down to the Bay to see if the waves were crashing ashore; as the wind was blowing from the south it seems the waves were bigger and more impressive south of Dover. We know this because we saw them from the train as we headed to London.

Yes London.



It seems a tradition that we visit the capital once inbetween Christmas and New Year, and as we enjoyed photographing the lights on Regent Street; ok, I did, we thought we would go back to see Oxford Street, and whilst we were there take in a show. And just any show, but the longest running play in the world ever. The Mousetrap, now in its 60th year. I booked tickets online the night before and so were set.



We caught the 12:44 train, armed with cameras and an umbrella, as rain was forecast. We got off at St Pancras and went again to inspect the work going on at Kings Cross as the structures of the 1970s are swept away, soon to be replaced with a plaza. There is now more space and light for sure, and I got the shots despite the rain beginning to fall.



We headed to Marble Arch via Holburn; we went to snap the arch, then as the rain began to fall harder, so we took refuge in a pub off Oxford Street and to let the light to fade so we could snap the lights to best effect.

And then into the craziness that is Oxford Street at the height of the sales. And oh, was it crazy.

It was.

Anyway, I snapped as we went along, so I stopped from time to time to snap the more attractively decorated buildings and lights stretched across the street. We walked right down Oxford Street, then down into Soho.



The rain began again, and so we popped into a French restaurant for a coffee, but the menu looked so nice we ended up having an early dinner, just a light one; Jools had a plate of smoked salmon and I had goat's cheese salad. All very nice and full of flavours.

Outside it had stopped raining, so we walked down to the theatre to pick up the tickets, then retracing our steps back to Soho and then over Shaftesbury Avenue into Chinatown.

I snapped away, and as we headed deep into naughty Soho with all the neon lights advertising strip clubs and peep shows. We ended up in Foyles bookshop as we looked for a place for a coffee that was not bursting, but no luck.



At seven we headed back to the theatre, and once inside it was revealed as a wonderful old building, needing a bit of TLC, but the seating in the upper circle raked at an alarming angle. I am sure some of the older members of the audience would have liked sherpas to take them to their seats.



I won't reveal anything of the play, except to say it was great, with twists and all characters having something to hide.

As soon as the play finished, we were down the steps out into the street and up to the main road; we flagged down a taxi and were soon at St Pancras, in the end with ten minutes to spare before the train left to Dover.

We were amused by a group of very Drunk Arsenal supports on their way back to Folkestone after seeing the Gooners demolish Newcastle 7-3. Yes, seven-three. Sadly City lost 4-3 at home to Man City, but put up a good fight and could, maybe should have got at least a leveller in the final ten minutes.

Once we were back in Dover, the heavens opened, and so we drove back home in a storm of astonishing ferocity. And that was another day over with.