I never imagined that we could ever top the theme of our eighth wedding anniversary, “
The Ocho: Just can’t get enough of it”, but a worthy contender came from my mother by way of a hand written note in the anniversary card she sent us. So this year’s theme became “Keeping It Gay”.
This year’s anniversary weekend celebration included a trip to the
Prince Charles Cinema. It is a cute little cinema ala
Cable Car and
Avon. It is like having your own private cinema screening room like the ones ridiculously rich people have. The ceiling in the upstairs cinema has a random scattering of little lights reminiscent of a rural night sky and right before the film starts neon accent lighting on the walls slowly transforms from one colour to another that suggest you are viewing the world from inside a string of Christmas lights.
My American friends may not be aware that ordering film
popcorn in the UK comes with this question: “Sweet or Salted?” My myopic mind just would not allow me to conceive of watching a film with anything but the butter-and-salt soaked snack of my youth. But the Prince Charles tricked me into it because they serve an unannounced mix of sweet and salted. The combination invaded my mouth with no warning. Perhaps I was still heady from all the Firth butt, I fell hard for this delectable combination. Each reach into the eats had the anticipatory tease of not being quite sure which one you would get, making each bite just like the first: munched for the very first time…. Mmm.
The next day we treated ourselves to dinner and a ballet. Dinner was at
Sophies Steakhouse. I have to admit that British beef mystifies me. I don’t know what unnatural process results in the tender, flavourful steaks back home but I have yet to experience a steak here whether in a restaurant or from the grocer that is not a mandible workout. Some of them have tasted good, but I am just not used to working that hard. The samples of my wifes steak, however, chewed with ease…ahhh. And my salmon was devine. Yum.
I am ashamed to admit that this is my first trip to the ballet in London. My wife on the other hand has seen several. We went to see
Royal Ballet at Covent Garden (when a dancer says Covent Garden, they mean the
Royal Opera House, not the
market). We had the perfect seats. Ironically,
Sarah Lamb who had her start at
Boston Ballet danced
Cinderella. She is beautifully crisp and clean. There is something I am not grasping about the Royal Ballet attitude line that to my eye looks turned in: the only one not doing it was Sarah. But I loved all of the ladies doing the ‘seasons’ variations and Prince, his friends, and the Jester were also fantastic. Sorry to the stepsisters, nothing personal, you did a wonderful job, but I never liked that role in the ballet. The corp was excellent and the
Ashton choreography still feels relevant, although I wasn't raised on it. A wonderful finale to anniversary weekend.
During this weekend, I had some very interesting bathroom experiences at all three of these venues. But I am going to have to save that for another blog entry…perhaps.
Photo Credits
