Wednesday, March 28, 2001

Right, 5.30pm Tuesday, and I'm just about to start and blog what's been going on since Friday night - how does that work? (Not very well in terms of continuity in my book). Here we go.

Friday: Ran out of here and headed into town to meet my Daddy. No, I mean my actual Daddy. Down from Yorkshire for the weekend. Even though it was raining, we got some spectacular views from the London Eye. Thence back to Dad's hotel for large vodkas before having dinner. I can recommend the lamb at the Marriot County Hall Hotel should you ever get there. After a couple more large voddies I left Dad to it and headed home, where I showered, changed and launched myself anew at the Two Brewers. Karl had texted me to say all the gang would be there, and he wasn't wrong. Commenced minkering, to the point of being persuaded by Wayne and Karl to hit Sub South. Familiar ring (as it were)? Seem to remember doing that some two weeks ago... More minkering until we finally left to go and chill at Michael's at 4.30am. Oh dear. Coffee and chats and eventually the bus home at 6am. In bed for 7am. Slept until 11am.
Saturday (post 11am): Into town to meet Dad at the hotel. He'd busied himself at the Aquarium and was happy. We wandered into Covent Garden and had a quick snack before heading to the Prince of Wales Theatre at 3pm for the Witches of Eastwick. Have to say, it was absolutely fantastic! Much, much better than I could have hoped. Ian McShane was understudied for the afternoon, but it didn't really matter. Go and see it if you get chance. Fun, witty - a good spectacle. And that's from a gay man that can take or leave musicals.

Yes, there are a few of us around.

D'apres, I took Dad back to the hotel and then met Pilar at Waterloo. We took a leisurely stroll back to County Hall, had a drink with Dad and then we headed off to Porter's for dinner. I took the 'most-traditional-English-food-I-could-find' route, knowing Dad's aversion to all things culinary that are actually interesting. The meal wasn't bad. Bumped into Craig and Peter (Karl's lodgers from last night at the Brewers) who were sat two tables away. Fortunately no flouncing over and air-kissing (not that they're like that actually), so Dad went away convinced in his own mind that Pilar and I will be married. We went back to the hotel, dropped Dad off over another drink, and I escorted Pilar back to Waterloo. A most enjoyable evening.

D'oh - run out of time. More tomorrow. Drinks to be drunk. Me to be drunk most probably too.

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