love those cupcakes

A night out

Last Thursday night had us driving through the rain to the Theatre Royal in Newcastle to see Derren Brown's latest offering.  It's not the kind of performance I usually opt for but the Boy had been given tickets as a Christmas present and invited us along.

It's hard to write about in any detail as the man himself asked the audience not to give away the content when blogging or reviewing or tweeting so as not to spoil it for people who have yet to see it.  If you've watched his television shows then you'll know the kind of stuff he does - suggestion, prediction, illusion, mind reading.  It was all there, with lots of laughs, camera close-ups, plenty of "how on earth did he do that" moments, audience participation and a rather creepy prop in the second half.  Derren Brown has been described as the "consummate showman".  He is.  But he's also very likeable.

We arrived home after midnight and to top off a really enjoyable evening I managed to slip on our (not so long ago re-surfaced, treacherous when wet) drive and ended up flat on my back.  A trip to A&E a few hours later confirmed a bad ankle sprain. 

 

So here I am on the sofa, following instructions to rest, elevate and apply ice packs whilst hoping for a speedy return to mobility.

A lot of cake and a bit of culture

• Afternoon tea (yes, another one) at nearby Crathorne Hall with Aunty M and my Girlie and the Boy. The scones and little pistachio cakes were delicious and I'm told the carrot cake was very moist. The fruitcake?  I've had better. "I'll pay, I want to pay", insisted deaf as a post Aunty at full volume. Turned out she had nothing to pay with.  Still, it's the thought that counts.
  

• An outdoor performance of Much Ado About Nothing (Benedick thinks he hates Beatrice but really loves her. Beatrice thinks she hates Benedick but really loves him. Claudio loves Hero. Hero loves Claudio. Mix ups and misconceptions. Double wedding.  The end.) in a historic setting, accompanied by a picnic of homemade focaccia, a wedge of Brie and a tub of fat green olives, with a couple of chocolate and walnut treats each for half time. 

•   A belated birthday gift from a friend.  

Exactly.

 

A night at the opera

My first. 

At the Theatre Royal in Newcastle. 

Courtesy of one of the Husband's Christmas presents.

We started with an early doors supper, pasta arrabiata and courgette fritters with basil mayonnaise for me, pizza and chips (predictably) for him.

It bugs me that we have to travel to visit a decent theatre (there is a tiny one locally with limited performances) as this town was once overrun with them. 

Newcastle's Theatre Royal is about an hour's drive away and a wonderful venue.  It's about to undergo extensive renovation which will include new seating, much needed for those of us with long legs!   

As for the opera itself, this was a first and I wasn't sure what to expect though, obviously, some of the music was very familiar (the overture, habanera, the toreador song and the bit they used for the Esso television advert years ago).  I loved it (the performance was in French with helpful sub titles on small screens at the sides of the stage) though it's probably fair to say that the baring of breasts, mooning and a dog in a muzzle were a bit of a surprise.  

Now I'm wondering how I can get Boo an Equity card.

 

Catch up

Our little jaunt was a five day trip to Poland's second city, which was cut to four days after long delays (due to freezing fog) at the airport.  Krakow is a beautiful city with lots of places to explore and with so many stories to tell.  However, the weather whilst we were there (rain, fog and finally snow) wasn't great for photographs (and it probably didn't help that I'm still getting acquainted with the new camera) and only a few of those I did take are worthy of sharing.

Christmas market in the medieval square in the old town.

 

Wawel cathedral, the venue for the coronations of Polish monarchs and where, as a priest, Pope John Paul 11 delivered his first mass in 1946.

Part of the castle on Wawel hill.

A recently opened (just this year) museum is the one at the site of Oskar Schindler's factory.

Housed in the enamel factory's admin block, the museum's well put together exhibits, including one of Schindler's office, tell the story of Krakow, and everyday life for its inhabitants, from the early 1900's to the final weeks of the Nazi occupation and the arrival of the Red Army.

 

For all sorts of reasons, I wasn't convinced that our trip should include that most horrifying and tragic part of Krakow's history - the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp.  Since 1947 the entire site has been designated a memorial to the estimated 1.2 million victims, a museum and historical document,  and, after much deliberation, we did visit. 

There are no photographs.  There are no words.

 

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore"

 

Last night we went here to see a production of The Wizard of Oz that my cousin was directing and which turned out to be rather good.  The star of the show was undoubtedly Milly, the little terrier who played the part of Toto with great applomb and true professionalism*.  She is surely destined for canine stardom. 

(*Edited to add:  As she was a little Yorkie there wasn't a hint of typecasting!)

I'd considered making these again

 

but then remembered how fiddly those ruby slippers were.