London Philharmonic.

Hubby and I were up to our usual trotting around London on a spare weekend, this time to see the Ballgowns; British Glamour since the 1950’s at the V & A and then we headed to the Royal Academy of Arts to see From Paris: A taste of the Impressionists.  We loved them both.  On the way in the RA we saw a rather large empty black construction and wondered what was going on.  We were so wrapped up in the Impressionist’s that we completely forgot to ask and on the way out we were met with this 
 motley crew. 
 And I was immediately entranced. 
 We sat and watch them practise for an hour or so, I was in heaven.  On the way out we asked if there had been any returned tickets, which there hadn’t, these tickets had gone to ballot, I’d remembered reading about it and thought we wouldn’t stand a chance and then I’d forgotten about it.  The very kind receptionist asked if we would like to be top of the list for any returns, I think I bounced as I said ‘Oh Yes Please’ 
Hubby and I went off and had supper and came back just over an hour later to find that two tickets had been returned, and they were ours.. Oh what joy. 
 It was an amazing evening, the music was so powerful that one time tears came to my eyes.  I am so glad we got to experience this, no words can describe how the music resonates within you on being at a live production. 
I don’t think we will ever be that lucky again to stumble on such an event and the best bit is they filmed it, so we get to watch it again. (You can clearly make me out with my bald head and blue knitted waistcoat and hubby in his mustard jacket.) 
What I haven’t told you is the concert over ran and finished rather later than planned, we quickly got out, trotted to the tube and carried on trotting for our train to find out we had missed the last one!  Ooops. 
We could manage to get back to Banbury easily enough and whilst I was letting my mind ramble with imaginings of sitting in a deserted train station with urban foxes, hooting owls and cuddling up to my husband until we could get the next train from Banbury at just gone 2.00 a.m. Hubby was doing the much more sensible things of contacting son no.1 to come and collect us, which he did, very promptly, without fuss or drama and was waiting for us when our train came in. Shame really, I quite fancied coming home with the milk train. 
Just to let you know if you ever miss the last train, live around here and get the train to Banbury, there were about nine taxi’s waiting in a rank ready for the sleepy revellers to take them safely home.     

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