For four’s sake
After finally recovering from my on the run antics way back in March, I’ve picked back up the virtual pen after celebrating my latest lap around the sun!
A tatey datey
Soy cuarenta cuarenta last month (yeah I Duolingo), the day is fresh in my smiles; a whirlwind of a day in London with the better half. I always seem to end up in the ‘big smoke’ around the 8th August (cough cough), starting from my earlier years when my mum would take us on adventures to Hamleys, Lilywhites, Planet Hollywood or the Trocadero centre… I’ve fond memories shooting people in Quaser Laser or fleeing 7ft Xenomorphs for my 13 year old life in Alien War!
This year it’s a little more grown up (ish), kicking off with coffee and bacon rolls on the train up from Brighton. As I flick through today’s Metro, I realise I share my special day with Roger Federer, Dustin Hoffman, U2’s The Edge, Chris Eubank and Simon Weston… to be a fly on the wall at that dinner party! Guest list aside, our first stop is the Tate. Having already seen the brilliant Leigh Bowery exhibition twice before, we head straight for Do Ho Suh one instead (via the terrifyingly huge Louise Bourgeois spider in the hall).
Entering the room, we’re greeted by an amazing life size paper replica of the artist’s Hanok (home) in Korea, with hand-rubbings of all its exterior, before later discovering a house he’s made of cotton, I think? It had to be seen to be believed… arthouse literally!
Shirt got real
With our culture vulture wings ready to fly, we swoop over to Shoreditch for a celebratory mezcal (it’s a smoky tequila before you ask) enroute to the Gianni Versace exhibition. I’m slightly in love with his shirts, but they’re way out of my budget, so we decide to feed the fascination with a considerably cheaper – just looking – option.
Vogue describe the show perfectly: “These aren’t just clothes, but an entire world”. We wander through a massive collection of his creations, admiring the garish colours sitting behind the baroque designs. Think patterns, roman statues, animals, opera, masks, crucifixes, leopard prints… definitely not suitable for your average Joe!
The collection makes most clobber look dull and plain in comparison. Mr Versace was in his own lane for sure. We’re dazzled by all the magazine covers, press adverts, famous designs (including that safety pin dress that introduced us to Liz Hurley), timelines and evolution of the medusa logo. We spend another half hour watching the old catwalk collections on VHS. My PayPal credit has never looked so in danger.
Good mood food
As we meander through Oxford Street, our appetites start to grow with our step counts. On my 16,060th day on earth, this will be my 1st at Red Dog Saloon for a well-earned meat fix. With its alluring reputation, this is actually our fourth attempt at going to the Texan BBQ joint - the last time we came here it become apparent our mate had booked it but never got a confirmation (fail). No such problems this time, as we sit down and order their USS New York sharing platter… my mouth begins to flood in anticipation!
Our platter of perfection arrives, and it looks amazing! We plough through the best burger I’ve had in ages, aptly named the ‘Gooey Louie’ that comes loaded with bacon and mozzarella sticks. The taste buds are then kicked into orbit with the brisket, pork belly burnt ends and buffalo wings drowning in sauce. If this was my last ever meal, I’d be happy – as I waddle out the restaurant, feeling at least a kilogram heavier.
A roaring success
Our final stop is the Lyceum Theatre for Disney’s The Lion King. It’s a show literally everyone I’ve ever met has raved about, so my visit feels long awaited.
As we line up for the security bag check, our evening hits a slight inconvenience; our entry is delayed due to an illegal stowaway burger hiding from our previous stop. A few chomps and a reshuffle later and we’re taking our seats in the theatre; two people in the 2,100 strong audience!
As the lights dim, we hear the drums beating from the distant box seats. We slowly find ourselves no longer in London, but Africa – watching animals whizz past us and on to stage. The production is insane: Elephants stomp, Gazelles run, Leopards leap, birds fly. You really forget where you are, with the scenes from the film expertly bought to life right before your eyes
The show marks the end of a brilliant day, giving me plenty of time to plan the next big half a century. Thirty involved running with the bulls in Pamploma, forty was the skydive, with the fifty master plan involving a shark cage to go nose to nose with some great white sharks. Can someone gift me some common sense next year!
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