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Sunday morning dawned clear and bright, and as the forecast promised it was going to be a hot day. And as we were going to London, it was going to be even hotter there. After our usual early morning duties of cat feeding, cat-petting and then coffee drinking, we headed out in the car to find the car park we had booked just south of tower bridge.

It was the first time I had driven in London for many years, and although we travelled in on the A2, and it almost went passed the car park, I have to say the experience was not pleasant. With the usual lanes disappearing, and having to weave in and out of other cars to not miss a turn and then avoiding parked cars. Butlers Warf was once a huge complex of warehouses, apparently spice warehouses, which had now been converted to high cost housing and on the ground floor shops and restaurants. And somewhere in the warren of narrow streets was the garage. After a few false turns and dead ends we stumbled upon it, and to my surprise it was almost empty, and finding a place to park was easy.

Once parked and the car locked, we headed out on foot and carrying cameras, and set off for the river side. Running parallel to the river was a street full of bars and places to eat; wide and cobbled, and above many metal walkways linked the buildings, creating quite a site, and looking even better through a viewfinder. It was now high noon, and the hot sun was beating down, and we decided to find a place to eat; and the first place we came across was a chain restaurant called Zizzi. It’s an Italian place, and a Mediterranean salad was just what was needed on such a day. Maybe it was a mistake to have the bottle of rose wine, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, it was great to sit under the air-conditioning, and enjoy the cold air blowing on us.

We walked beside the Thames, stopping every few yards to take a picture or two, getting ever closer to Tower Bridge, and using the wide lens getting ever more distorted shots as it crossed over the water. And all along to river bank were restaurant after restaurant, all packed with people eating and taking in the view. Not a bad place all in all.

Our plan was to walk along to where the London Eye was and to cross the river and catch the tube at Charing Cross and go to Camden to where the Jazz Café is and so to be where the concert was for seven when the doors opened. As it turned out, the walk felt much longer in the heat, and soon Jools began to feel ill, and so we sought refuge in the first air conditioned place we came to; which was a pub. But as the lunchtime rush was over there were many seats, including ones right under the main air con vent, and very cool indeed.

After an hour and a cold pint, we set off again to the Tate Modern, where they have allowed ‘street artists’ to paint to outside of the old power station with huge selections of their work.

And then on once more to Westminster, across the river and down into the Tube. Long gone are the days when a single journey would cost just 20p, now it’s £4.00, and something of a shock. And it is still so hot down on the trains, especially on the deeper lines, and as we were travelling on the Northern Line, one of the deepest, it was even hotter.

Camden high Street came a real shock, as it is full of t shirt shops, and on the other side a market of clothes stalls selling identical t shirts as the shops; and full of people. The venue was in a quieter street, and it was a relief to head off down that and find an air conditioned café and have a chilled mango juice or two to while away the time before it was time to head to the gig.

We sat downstairs as the venue filled up, before making our way to the balcony, as had booked a table and a meal to go along with the gig. It was an odd feeling to be there at a table and being waited on whilst the roadies got the equipment on stage ready, but I guess that’s why it’s called the Jazz café, as it really is a café. Just before showtime, a couple sat down next to me, and what was to become my abiding memory of the evening, the wife began broadcasting her thoughts in a very loud voice. The food was really good; I had squash and carrot soup followed by Caribbean style chicken and rice; whilst next to me the wife read out the menu, twice, and then that they had to be at Euston by half eleven at the latest, and so on…..

And once Ian Mclagen had taken the stage she got up and began to dance; I say dance it was this stylised handclapping and shifting her weight from one foot to the other, each time bumping me in the side of the head. Grrr. And then there was her heckling; not really heckling, but joining in with the in-between song banter on stage; eventually resulting in a put down from the stage which thankfully shut her up, for a while. And then I think the husband suggested that she may like to dance between the table instead rather than in the small gap between diners. And mercifully, they had to leave before the end of the show, so I got to enjoy the final 20 minutes of the gig annoyance free.

The gig was fantastic, Ian was once the keyboard player in both The Small faces and The Faces, and co-wrote many classic songs by those bands, and worked with both Steve Marriott and Rod Stewart, as well as Ronnie Wood amongst countless others. That he is not a major name in British music is a crime to be honest, and he and his current band blasted out a selection of new songs from their new record and selections from Ian’s past. That he has a raspy voice like Rod’s; so the Faces songs seem perfect, and seeing and hearing his work on the organ and keyboards was a real treat, and his hands flew along the three banks of keyboards; song of the night for me was a Small Faces b side called get it Together, which was just wonderful and so full of energy, and Cindy, Incidentally, which was like listening to it on the radio, so perfect his voice was to Rod’s.