The Winter’s Tale, The Globe in Lincoln’s Inn North Garden, 6^th June 2008

There has been much talk in the press recently about Network Rail’s bonuses. They claim that they are justified because the trains are full. This is certainly true. This was about noon on Saturday, and both train and tube were packed. I think Network Rail should be paid a special bonus for keeping trains I want to get on nice and empty.

This was an open-air production, and was announced with a difficult dress code: “we carry on in all but the most extreme weather”. I recalled a delightful production of “The Merchant of Venice” at Ightham Mote, where the cast simply pulled out concealed golf umbrellas at crucial moments, and carried on regardless, so-to-speak. And Saturday was one of those uncertain grey days, with the grey just dark enough to suggest showers. So I forewent the offer of “picnic on the North Lawn” beforehand. It would have been difficult anyway: the Holborn Sainsburys is a ‘local’, but it still sells the sort of things I would eat at a picnic, like pork pies and scotch eggs, by the dozen. And wine in full-sized bottles. But the ubiquitous Wetherspoons was delightfully dark and quiet for a Saturday; and the beer was up to their usual standard. The chaps at the next table were speaking something that sounded a little like Russian; not Russian, but a little like it. Sky News was on television with the sound off, but with subtitles turned on. These can be very amusing. I hope deaf people have a better way of finding out what’s going on, otherwise they could be very confused. If they’re going to do this seriously, they will have to return to BBC Newsreaders using ‘received’ pronunciation. The first thing that caught my eye was a reference to a “bagel summer”: I didn’t get the context, but you work that out. Two points from their discussion of the football Euro 2008 told me that “the greeks got it last time – surrey 2004” so Surrey must have been fielding some really serious all-rounders back then. And, in a reference to Germany’s chances of winning, one pundit was quoted as saying “Hisbollah surprises”. Given what I hear about security worries in Austria and Switzerland, the translating machine might just be prophetic.

Lincoln’s Inn is a lovely place for outdoor theatre, with surprisingly good acoustics (I could hear actors facing away from me). They played it well, with just the right level of Mummery, chasing each other round the lawn from time-to-time. This is, of course, the play with the immortal stage direction ‘exit, pursued by a bear’ (which they did, all round the lawn). And Autolycus jumped into the audience and heckled while hiding his head on my shoulder. There was this modern thing of not having enough players, which I quite enjoy, because they make an effort to change voice and costume for the other parts, but Paulina was played by a bloke, which fooled me for a bit, trying to figure out who it was. (I find Shakespeare is easier to follow if I mug up on the story and characters beforehand. If I do it well enough, I can enjoy the language so much more. And the program gave a helpful synopsis).

I went early, just to be sure I could find it, so I had plenty of time to walk around Chancery Lane, which is an old stomping ground of mine. I used to have an office just above the Blue Anchor. In the days when there were funny licencing hours around London, the Blue Anchor, being on the corner of the City, was where you traditionally began a twenty-four hour pub crawl. Now it’s not even there: not converted to something else; replaced. Sic transit gloria mundi.