Thinking about writing this I realised I’m probably going to end up with a blog that resembles a listings magazine reviews section, you know the kind of thing… ‘what to do and see this weekend’. However it does sum up the experience of the twenty-four hours or so between Friday and Saturday night last weekend…

After finally leaving work about an hour and a half later than planned on the Friday, then getting home about two and a half hours later than planned – courtesy of Tooting High Street turning into a car park – I made it back home to get changed and pick up the parents and head into London.

So this is where the reviews begin…

Following further delay (the northern line this time) we found S (One of my best mates) outside Baker St station, she’d thankfully found someone to call and natter with whilst we’d spent twenty minutes admiring the inside of a dark concrete tube. Once free of delays we headed for Giraffe. Now if you have never visited a Giraffe you simply must, it’s an eclectic ‘grown-up but full of silliness’ family restaurant with the most amazing food and the friendliest waiting staff you could meet. On this occasion we chose Marylebone (the same place I celebrated my birthday last year) but previously have also been to Royal Festival Hall (where we celebrated my mothers 60th last November)… and I imagine whichever you choose there will be people falling over themselves to provide you with whatever you ask whether that’s a balloon, plastic giraffes, scintillating conversation or their to die for cheesecake. The beauty of this place is that they love people. Take my mother as an example (she is often an example), she just loves to make conversation with everyone about anything, in giraffe she is not only tolerated but positively welcomed with open arms, as if she were an old friend back for more of their delicious food. When she starts rather scientifically discussing the ins and outs of making a black coffee (surely just coffee and hot water?) it turns into a full blown and involved anecdote with the waitress sitting down at the table and positively encouraging the chattering. Although once upon a time I would have been a brooding and cringing teenager in this situation, I now seem to freely join in… I feel sorry for any children I may have in the future, I am going to be an embarrassment on a huge scale! I have gone off on a tangent… and I could go on for quite some time about Giraffe, however I think by now you have gathered that this is one place I most definitely love.

So once we were thoroughly fed and ready for another couple of drinks S and I headed off to find the animators in a bar just of Regents St (will remain nameless as quite frankly it wasn’t good enough to deserve a mention, but not bad enough to deserve avoidance). We took a rather long detour down to my lack of skill in identifying the correct time to turn left, but it was a pleasant mistake that left us meandering amongst Vivianne Westwood and Issey Miyake, and eventually with a look of horror on my face when we passed Jimmy Choo and her response was “Who? …I’m no slave to Vogue myself (by a long way) but not knowing your Manolos from your Choos?!

Once animators were found I decided Mojitos were in order (having just had the beautifully made Mellow Yellow Mojito at Giraffe I should have stopped before I ordered a mediocre cocktail) but order I did, and the bar man made such an effort, which led me to ponder that perhaps someone’s cocktail making technique shows their general attitude in their life (well their love life anyway) – the guy that served me was trying very hard, and it seemed very important to him to get it just right, however I did end up being a bit disappointed but of course didn’t tell him, he would have been crushed… instead just avoided ordering anything from him again! – poor bloke, I hope I’m wrong and his love life is a bit more of a success than that!

Whilst supping my less than great Mojito we were approached by Urban Chill. I hadn’t heard of them before, but a couple of my mates were familiar. The concept is that these guys and gals trained in massage (back, shoulder and Indian head massage) pop round bars in London and see if anyone fancies taking five to ten minutes out for a massage, at the end of it you pay them what you feel it was worth. Well me being me it was an opportunity and it was random, so I was up for it. Off I went to the fairly quite bit of the bar, sat back relaxed and experienced ten minutes of bliss (and also good conversation, no awkward silences). I did think afterwards that most people might find it quite strange to be manhandled in the middle of a bar by a bloke you’d met five minutes earlier, but it was a lovely experience. I came back to the table looking “radiant” (to quote Charlie) and parted with a tenner, the combination of the ingenuity of the concept and the sheer lovliness of the massage made it worth that. If you’re someone that has frequent professional massages I can’t say how much you’ll get out of it, but if like me you are non-stop always-on and keep saying ‘I must go get myself a massage’ then it is worth parting with a few of your hard earned pounds for the Urban Chill experience – and for those cynics out there, if you don’t enjoy it and are a tight git you don’t have to pay a thing!

When they finally turfed us out of the bar we headed to the tube (with varying degrees of lurching) and homewards bound. Not before we had (most likely) pissed off a number of other tube users with our “tube surfing” challenge … I think all other passengers escaped unscathed!

After not nearly enough sleep, Saturday started surprisingly well – Suzi made bacon and egg butties – and then I headed out to London with Mum and Dad to spend the day wandering around the west end and visiting The National Gallery, finally introducing them to Wagamamas and then going to see ‘Treats’ at the Garrick Theatre.

No one is more surprised than me that I have seen a play on opening weekend, I am more of a last minute kind of person I spend my life intending to go and see plays and exhibitions only to find that I finally get round to going the day after they have ended. But here I was watching a new West End play on its third night. I don’t want to say too much and ruin it (as I’m about to recommend you go see it) but I will say that it needs to be taken as a whole, the comedy is in the words, but the drama is in the actions and reactions… I was so absorbed that the time flew by, I don’t think I’ve been that immersed by anything on stage for a long time. Definitely recommended!

Well I have babbled on quite enough so I will leave you be… I’m now tup in the North East in the land of the Geordies having a week away from work. Mind you as soon as I arrived in Newcastle I managed to get myself a taxi driver who’d been a union rep in for my company in the area I work in until he’d moved up here in recent years, which meant the entire taxi journey became 20 minutes of discussing the managers, the union and the company… not exactly a break from work. Luckily he was a nice chap and so it wasn’t such an awful conversation. I will regale you with stories of my time up here later in the week… (Don’t expect much, so far I’ve made cups of tea and helped with dinner, whilst avoiding nappy changing duties)