A Non Theatre post, as I’ve been doing predominantly non-theatre-y things this week, mainly involving running round the garden, as mentioned, and exploring my new neighbourhood. (And can I just ask whether there is a word for the kind of hypocrite who waves her hands around in vaguely classist alarm when a branch of Cath Kidson opens up the road from her old flat and then gets over-excited when she realises her new home is within walking distance of a Waitrose? Because, it seems, that this is exactly the kind of hypocrite I am.)
Anyway, continuing down the non-theatre line, the man known as Barry and I skipped over to Dalston last night for an evening of Turkish food and jazz on the Kingsland Road and it was lovely. We saw a young vocalist called Mishka Adams at the Vortex and it was everything you want from a night like that: red wine, low lights, smooth music. I don’t think I have the necessary vocabulary to talk about jazz, not in any analytical way at least; I just know I enjoyed myself and will be repeating the experience at some future date.