The middle of the holiday in the UK:

'no sung unsung no wine untasted - almost
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame'

A Night at the Opera actually an Afternoon at the Musicals.

On the trains again London bound. Navigating the underground is much easier without struggling with suitcases, laptop and backpack. I am able to look at all the posters on the wall and enjoy the seething teeming mass of people hurridly bustling hither and thither. I am now a seasoned underground escalator traveller - keeping to the right or striding ahead importantly on the left.

Mr 19 and I get out at Charing Cross, visit Trafalgar Square and then set off along Charing Cross Rd. 'Heaven I'm in heaven' - bookshops to the left, bookshops to the right, old books, new books, interesting books, boring books and ancient tomes 'Happy happy joy joy'. Keep hands firmly in pockets away from credit card and resist all temptation. Blackwells in particular with its huge philosophy section was a favorite but some of the antiquarianian shops also tugged at my heart strings.

It was great down a side street to see a girt neon sign advertising the 52nd Year of the MouseTrap. London is wonderful. Wonderfully dirty that is! Fingernails and hands become engrained with black. It must be just in the air or 'summat'.

We see a sign for a bar/club the 'walkabout' and have Aussie Beer again hooray! A large plate of beans, pork and leek sausages, eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast quench the hunger. It is 2.oopm.

Now the moment I have been waiting for - I am off to the Palace. The Pal ce Theatre actually. Mr 19 and I conjecture that is an Australian that has taken the middle a out of the sign. We collect our tickets and off inside. Up up up up up we go into the top section and sit down. We are in the middle one row from the edge looking down onto the stage!

Les Miserable begins. I am transported into another world. Set changes are flawless and the quality of the orchestral sound and the singers voices are sooooo lush. Sadly an intoxicated scotsman in our row starts shouting out 'go home' and 'shut up ' as Jean Valjean begins his second solo. His very embarrased daughter manages to extricate him out of the theatre. The show continues. I sit in tears for the final 6 minutes full of joy for being there and full of sorrow that my SO is not with me.

So back onto the underground. Then onto SouthWestTrains to Salisbury. We sit and then an announcement 'This Service Has Been Terminated' We move to Platform 4 and 20 minutes later catch a train that has to stop and start due to line and loop disruptions.

Back in Sherborne the Weavers Club has a monthly folk night, we enjoy good beers, mulled wine and whisky. Australian, Irish, American and English folk songs and tunes are well known hereabouts. Sadly tiredness prevents us staying to the end..