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The Weekend
Oct. 1st, 2008 06:41 pmWhat a weekend!
This time it was
jul1et's hen weekend and it all started off innocently enough with drinks and nibbles on Friday night in the company of both of dragonzgrace and s0b who had created a tasty repast that, due to some crossed wires in communication and Sainsbury's being an absolute madhouse (and, of course, me being utterly rubbish), I missed most of so I shall leave it to others to give a full review. As is our wont, jul1et and I stayed up long past our bedtime chatting about many things.
As a consequence of the late night I awoke somewhat groggily on Saturday morning to be presented with a lovely cup of tea byJen who then herded the rest of us with quiet efficiency out of the house and down to take our lives in our hands with London Underground. If you didn't know already, let me tell you that it is impossible to travel on the underground in a wheelchair unless you are either able to manage stairs on your own and have friends around who are able to carry your chair up and down them or, if you cannot walk at all, sufficient friends to carry you palanquin-style when on the escalators or stairs. Fortunately I fall into the former camp and the folks I was with throughout the day were extraordinarily helpful when it came to pushing me around and lifting and carrying the chair when I was wobbling around with my stick. Anyway, after what felt like a serious steps class, we finally arrived at the Liberty Bounds pub for brunch where we were joined by the lovely gekkouchan and boglin. Once suitably fuelled we went to the first "big" destination of the day: The Tower of London! Now if the underground isn't wheelchair friendly, at least it doesn't have cobbles. Suffice to say that for much of the time I was actually having to hold my legs in place so they wouldn't jump out of the footplates. Still, we started off by talking to someone who we suspect was working for Dom Jolly or Fonejacker or something similar. Nobody is really that camp with that sort of lisping South American/Spanish accent. Furthermore he seemed to think that, as a wheelchair user, the highlight of my visit to the Tower was likely to be the restaurant.1 Anyway, he scibbled on a pamphlet in biro and we went on our way. As we passed through the entrance, I was handed a printed sheet upon which (in text only) was marked the different access ratings for each of the various areas ... this was quite helpful. The crown jewels were fab, as were the ravens but most of the rest of the time we engaged in drifting round the various souvenir shops in the Tower of London (there are many) where many shiny things were cooed over, and some were purchased. As we were about to head out2 we happened across a small bank of touch-sensitive screens upon which were interactive maps of many of the areas within the Tower of London, together with an access map detailing on a map which areas were relatively easy to visit and which might prove challenging (and which, downright impossible), if only we'd seen these at the beginning! So enraptured was I by these screens that I completely missed the departure of boglin who had to return home. Then, since I think my selfless wheelchair wallahs were feeling the burn somewhat (and I was reduced to a very undignified hobble when forced to navigate stairs and the like) it was decided to travel to King's Cross only, where we bade farewell to gekkouchan and caught a taxi back to Highgate.
At this pointjul1et was presented with a rather familiar dress3 and we all proceeded to get changed into our bestest LRP gear. Scant hours later and we were in a taxi4 headed back toward the river Thames. After some amusing distractions5 we finally pitched up at the entrance to a Medieval banquetting establishment where we met up with catpooka and westernind. Needless to say, we all looked fabulous! Proof of this will doubtless be forthcoming once the photographs of the evening hit the interwebnet. The evening passed with much raucousness, quaffing, singing and eating ... on one side of us we were joined by a rather shell-shocked German6 couple and their young son; and on the other, trooped in the most stereotypical hen night crowd you've ever seen, complete with fluffy pink deely-boppers and a glowing dildo. There were many other guests of course, some dressed up, most not ... and none as fabulous as we! dragonzgrace then proceeded to give us each a sword and shield to help us celebrate the evening, these were brandished to fine effect by the assembled company (and later the young lad next to us too ... much to his delight). There was the inevitable "I'm Spartacus" game, where we gamely stymied the hosts who were enquiring about the occasion7 and who were told that it was a hen night but apparently we were all the bride to be. I shan't regale you with the entire tale of the evening's proceedings but suffice to say we all left very happy and promising to return. I am rather proud of the fact that when the staff were shooing the patrons out at the end of the night, we were very conspicuously left alone to leave at our own pace ... clearly we were as much a hit with the staff as they were with us. I suspect that Evenlode Studio may be getting some work out of the evening, as our boots8 proved something of a hit with the staff.
Back then to Highgate (after saying goodbye tocatpooka and westernind), and wine, and pictures of Venice and so to bed when it was entirely too light outside.
Sunday we bade farewell todragonzgrace and there followed a mostly tranquil day of WoW and chatting and Merlin and James May and Indian food, and then it was time for me to say my farewells and head home, tired but happy.
1 He mentioned this several times whilst suggesting that I would like it in there ... on second thoughts perhaps he was asking me out on a date *shudder*
2 And having visited our penultimate gift shop.
3s0b had, under a veil of subterfuge, had Minoo's dress cleaned especially for the evening.
4 ApparentlyKev found the experience terrifying, which either means that he's phobic of taxis, or I was devoid of any of my usual self-preservation instincts.
5 The secret destination was such a well-kept secret that nobody seemed to know where it actually was ... this was not a great deal of help to our driver.
6 Possibly Swiss or Austrian, we never found out.
7jul1et was quite reasonably reluctant to find herself the centre of any traditional hen night attention.
8 There were a number of Faeg-Boots being worn by us.
This time it was
jul1et's hen weekend and it all started off innocently enough with drinks and nibbles on Friday night in the company of both of dragonzgrace and s0b who had created a tasty repast that, due to some crossed wires in communication and Sainsbury's being an absolute madhouse (and, of course, me being utterly rubbish), I missed most of so I shall leave it to others to give a full review. As is our wont, jul1et and I stayed up long past our bedtime chatting about many things.As a consequence of the late night I awoke somewhat groggily on Saturday morning to be presented with a lovely cup of tea by
Jen who then herded the rest of us with quiet efficiency out of the house and down to take our lives in our hands with London Underground. If you didn't know already, let me tell you that it is impossible to travel on the underground in a wheelchair unless you are either able to manage stairs on your own and have friends around who are able to carry your chair up and down them or, if you cannot walk at all, sufficient friends to carry you palanquin-style when on the escalators or stairs. Fortunately I fall into the former camp and the folks I was with throughout the day were extraordinarily helpful when it came to pushing me around and lifting and carrying the chair when I was wobbling around with my stick. Anyway, after what felt like a serious steps class, we finally arrived at the Liberty Bounds pub for brunch where we were joined by the lovely gekkouchan and boglin. Once suitably fuelled we went to the first "big" destination of the day: The Tower of London! Now if the underground isn't wheelchair friendly, at least it doesn't have cobbles. Suffice to say that for much of the time I was actually having to hold my legs in place so they wouldn't jump out of the footplates. Still, we started off by talking to someone who we suspect was working for Dom Jolly or Fonejacker or something similar. Nobody is really that camp with that sort of lisping South American/Spanish accent. Furthermore he seemed to think that, as a wheelchair user, the highlight of my visit to the Tower was likely to be the restaurant.1 Anyway, he scibbled on a pamphlet in biro and we went on our way. As we passed through the entrance, I was handed a printed sheet upon which (in text only) was marked the different access ratings for each of the various areas ... this was quite helpful. The crown jewels were fab, as were the ravens but most of the rest of the time we engaged in drifting round the various souvenir shops in the Tower of London (there are many) where many shiny things were cooed over, and some were purchased. As we were about to head out2 we happened across a small bank of touch-sensitive screens upon which were interactive maps of many of the areas within the Tower of London, together with an access map detailing on a map which areas were relatively easy to visit and which might prove challenging (and which, downright impossible), if only we'd seen these at the beginning! So enraptured was I by these screens that I completely missed the departure of boglin who had to return home. Then, since I think my selfless wheelchair wallahs were feeling the burn somewhat (and I was reduced to a very undignified hobble when forced to navigate stairs and the like) it was decided to travel to King's Cross only, where we bade farewell to gekkouchan and caught a taxi back to Highgate.At this point
jul1et was presented with a rather familiar dress3 and we all proceeded to get changed into our bestest LRP gear. Scant hours later and we were in a taxi4 headed back toward the river Thames. After some amusing distractions5 we finally pitched up at the entrance to a Medieval banquetting establishment where we met up with catpooka and westernind. Needless to say, we all looked fabulous! Proof of this will doubtless be forthcoming once the photographs of the evening hit the interwebnet. The evening passed with much raucousness, quaffing, singing and eating ... on one side of us we were joined by a rather shell-shocked German6 couple and their young son; and on the other, trooped in the most stereotypical hen night crowd you've ever seen, complete with fluffy pink deely-boppers and a glowing dildo. There were many other guests of course, some dressed up, most not ... and none as fabulous as we! dragonzgrace then proceeded to give us each a sword and shield to help us celebrate the evening, these were brandished to fine effect by the assembled company (and later the young lad next to us too ... much to his delight). There was the inevitable "I'm Spartacus" game, where we gamely stymied the hosts who were enquiring about the occasion7 and who were told that it was a hen night but apparently we were all the bride to be. I shan't regale you with the entire tale of the evening's proceedings but suffice to say we all left very happy and promising to return. I am rather proud of the fact that when the staff were shooing the patrons out at the end of the night, we were very conspicuously left alone to leave at our own pace ... clearly we were as much a hit with the staff as they were with us. I suspect that Evenlode Studio may be getting some work out of the evening, as our boots8 proved something of a hit with the staff.Back then to Highgate (after saying goodbye to
catpooka and westernind), and wine, and pictures of Venice and so to bed when it was entirely too light outside.Sunday we bade farewell to
dragonzgrace and there followed a mostly tranquil day of WoW and chatting and Merlin and James May and Indian food, and then it was time for me to say my farewells and head home, tired but happy.1 He mentioned this several times whilst suggesting that I would like it in there ... on second thoughts perhaps he was asking me out on a date *shudder*
2 And having visited our penultimate gift shop.
3
s0b had, under a veil of subterfuge, had Minoo's dress cleaned especially for the evening.4 Apparently
Kev found the experience terrifying, which either means that he's phobic of taxis, or I was devoid of any of my usual self-preservation instincts.5 The secret destination was such a well-kept secret that nobody seemed to know where it actually was ... this was not a great deal of help to our driver.
6 Possibly Swiss or Austrian, we never found out.
7
jul1et was quite reasonably reluctant to find herself the centre of any traditional hen night attention.8 There were a number of Faeg-Boots being worn by us.
