It's a lot easier to get up before 6am to catch a train when it's light and relatively mild.
It's also good to know that I've not lost my skills in breakfasting, washing, dressing and seeing to Nutkin in less than 30 minutes.
I was doing this thanks to Roland's ability as a member to get rehearsal tickets. I hadn't been to a rehearsal there since I worked in the Box Office over the 1977/78 season. Roland didn't want to see Le nozze di Figaro and I was keen to hear John Eliot Gardiner conduct the work with something of a dream cast. So, for £7.00, I obtained a seat at the very side of the Amphitheatre on Row B.
This was another of my ongoing 65th birthday treats and so I had no compunctions in travelling First Class on Virgin Trains. Lime Street station was pretty deserted when I arrived but the First Class compartment soon filled up with business types hurrying down south for important business.
I settled back, had a nice breakfast of bacon sandwich and coffee. Dozed a bit and before long was pulling into Euston.
I felt the travelling required rather fine glass of chilled white wine to settle me down before the show. So I had one and felt prepared for the musical delights of naughty nobles trying to do their melodic worst.
What can I say? I caught David McVicar's show in 2008 when it was new and Charles Mackerras was conducting. The show has lost none of its insight and sparkle. John Eliot Gardiner knows the score inside out and, though the pacing was fleet, I never found it hurried though some did.
I had been carrying Christian Gerhaher's name round on my bucket list of singers I should like to hear live for quite some time. I was absolutely vindicated. He has the most beautiful baritone voice and he acts with his voice as well as his body.
Simon Keenlyside continues to be an excellent Almaviva and I liked Julia Kleiter as his countess. There was a sense between them of the spark of something lost which might possibly be regained. Joélle Harvey's Susanna was certainly a feisty minx and there was no doubt that their wedding night would be an active one.
Which brings me to the final intriguing casting choice, Kangmin Justin Kim as Cherubino. The role was intended for a soprano and that's how I've always heard it performed. Kim is a counter-tenor. So, musically was it acceptable? Yes. In this case, definitely. He was more than capable of hitting all the notes and moulding the line of the music with tact. I heard nothing that would make me say "Never again" but also nothing to make me say that this is the way it should always be done from now on.
What the choice did do for the drama is to remove any subliminal disbelief that this was a randy teenager who would shag a knot hole if pushed. At the Act IV finale, there were very definitely three couples who were going off into the night to consummate the day's folly. Barbarina was in for the night of her life.
I wonder if there's a case for suggesting that Marcellina and Bartolo might get jiggy as well. It not just the young ones who get down and dirty after all.
I had deliberately not booked a train to leave as soon as Figaro finished about 3pm. I followed my usual strategy of heading down to Tate Britain to catch a show there. I probably shouldn't have. I wasn't in the mood and the work did not draw me in. My mistake and so I shall say nothing more.
Then back home. Again First Class. It was worth the extra for the use of the Lounge at Euston plus the leg room, comfort and reliable wi-fi in the carriage. Home again, home again, jiggedy jog.
When I'm away like this, I make sure that I keep in contact with Ross. More recently, I've also been encouraging him to take whatever action he feels he needs in order to make himself feel safe but to make sure that he lets me know before I get home so that I know what I'm walking into.
So I wasn't surprised when I got a text telling me that there had been a barbecue and a big row next door. I was told that Ross had locked himself with Nutkin in bedroom and had blocked off both doors into the hallway downstairs. He suggested I called/texted him when I was near home.
I may not have been surprised but my heart sank and my uncharitable thoughts grieved for the fact that I don't seem to be able to have a nice day out just for myself.
I texted Ross to say that it sounded as though he had dealt with events very effectively. In truth, in comparison with yesteryear, it was probably a better outcome than I might have expected.
I've just watched the RSC Gregory Doran/Antony Sher King Lear. I think it's a marvel of a play. That first half hour rattles past with the tenacious ferocity of an avalanche.
Sher is very human in his disintegration but still very old-style commanding in his presence.
And I like the Game of Thrones faux pre-Roman setting. It gave plenty of scope for invoking nasty gods and goddesses. And it allowed Sher to be quite an Old Testament Moses at times.
Fresh from Cymbeline, Oliver Johnstone was rather good as the good son, Edgar.
A couple of days' later, I was at Tate Liverpool for a book signing - and not just any old book signing but one held amid the Keith Haring exhibition and graced by the presence of Russell Tovey.
It was a lovely evening all round. The postcard that Russell signed for me has a special significance in that the image became a poster which could be seen in pretty much every gay bedroom in Liverpool for a while in the late 80s. Trust me. I made a fairly exhaustive study of the matter at the time.
And, just a thought, why do they make AnuSol ointment for the treatment of haemorrhoids smell like the fillings of Coffee Creams? This is not an association I want when I open a selection box of Dairy Milk. Ian pointed out that my error is in taking the product nasally. So, that's where I have been going wrong.