100 things: Dinosaurs in Crystal Palace Park

I loved this suggestion immediately (thanks, Amber!) when it was made, so I don't know why it's taken me so long to get round to it. Finding out about them just before I went made it even better. They're Grade I listed, the first dinosaur sculptures in the world, and pre-dated On the Origin of Species by six years. It's easy to find them quaint and somewhat amusing now (especially the one which has its head in a bush because no one knew what its face looked like) but they're really not only fun to go and look at but also an incredible piece of history. This and loads more info all on Wikipedia...

 The park also includes this model of geographical strata including a seam of coal. And here are some of the dinosaurs...

 I think my favourite bit were these, the dinosaurs they thought had shells somewhat like turtles - that's been proved incorrect. I liked the signage which gives information about what was thought at the time as well as illustrations of what is now thought to be the case - which of course, may also be already outdated.

As we walked around it was pointed out to me that this sudden desire to see these dinosaurs just at this moment might be no coincidence, and really just be withdrawal symptoms from being away from the Natural History Museum...  No. I'm sure not.

Before leaving we also did the maze - London's largest. I'm sure I've heard from somewhere that you should always turn left in a classical maze to find the centre. We tried it, and it worked. Sort of. Plenty of dead ends later. We decided this still counted, as we followed the dead ends and turned left again. Thinking about it, that might work for any maze, as you'd have to eventually follow all the kinks and turns around... I'm sure someone on the internet knows.

100 things: Greenwich Foot Tunnel

There is something quite peculiar about walking underneath a river - much more so than driving or travelling on the tube. I'm not totally sure I knew much about the Thames foot tunnels - I think there are only two in use, at Greenwich and Woolwich - before I looked up a cycling route to Canary Wharf from my flat in SE London the other day, and saw that Google showed it going straight across the river from the Cutty Sark to the Isle of Dogs where I was fairly sure there wasn't a bridge. I've been under it a couple of times since (hence the night and day time photos). Lots of commuting cyclists use it, a large percentage admirably kitted out in reflective jackets, proper cycling clothes, multiple flashing lights, bullet proof helmets etc (only a slight exaggeration) absolutely putting me to shame. I won't go into details of what I count as bike equipment at the moment, I would only get shouted at. The tunnel and lifts are open 24 hours a day and especially at peak hours it feels pretty busy and perfectly safe, though I'm not sure I'd feel totally comfortable walking through on my own at quiet times.

Also definitely worth a visit if you live anywhere near there on either side of the bank is the Old Fire Station near Island Gardens DLR station. I, like a complete snob, assumed there wouldn't be much in the way of decent eateries in that area and was proved completely wrong when we discovered this wonderful Mediterranean bistro with decorations made of reclaimed picture frames and a wine bottles ceiling light. We had a selection of tapas, which came beautifully presented, reasonable portions for the small cost, and everything tasted delicious and was perfectly cooked. Our waitress was new but we were introduced to her by the manager, who checked we didn't mind being her test case, and kept an eye on us throughout the evening. All the staff were perfectly charming - highly recommended and not too expensive.

100 things: randomly loving London

My pursuit of lesser known London delights has been sadly neglected of late. In fact I'm starting to feel it: I'm getting out a lot but mainly of course to go and sit in a darkened room and watch (or occasionally participate in) people doing things which aren't quite real. Or which are real but symbolise not quite real things. This isn't supposed to be a post about the nature of theatre but it's a bit of a cover up itself. This isn't one of 100 things to love about London, but it is a bunch of slightly random images from the last month or two, surprisingly few of which have been taken on the way to and from arts related events, and which are really just to remind myself that I'm still here, and how much else is.

Hot chuzzos and chocolate from the food market behind Royal Festival Hall, at a rare sunny moment.

The boat on the roof...

...and the skate park underneath.

 The pickled coelacanth at the Natural History Museum.

Ducks by Kew Bridge Station (you can just see them if you look closely, up the top of the bank. Ducks are really bad at responding to direction I can tell you.)

Cranes on a building site in front of the Gherkin - also slightly hard to make out.

Street sign.

View of the river in East London, with Canary Wharf and what I insist on still calling the Dome...

...and back to West London, with boats sailing on the river at low tide near Kew Bridge.

I'll try and do more soon. Promise.

100 things: Brentford Bees

Finally, I got to go and see a football match at Griffin Park. I attended my first ever game of football here, aged eight. I can count on one hand the number of times I've been to the football since (including that one, and this one) but it's been an important part of the experiencing the culture of different cities I've lived in,  so when I came back I felt very strongly I wanted to go back.

I enjoy watching football. Especially in the smaller teams there is a great buzz in the air and the chants often make me laugh. It's an easy sport to watch without being an expert, too - I have no idea about the off side rule and of course there are many such subtleties, but anyone can admire a good tackle and tell not only whether the ball's gone into the net or not, but roughly how well a team is playing from how much they seem in control, and how often they get the ball near the goal.

I saw the Bees in luxury, too, which was a rare treat - excellent seats and private bar and food beforehand, all thanks to my kind friend Natalie who sorted me out my ticket. Yes, as many people have told me, it's the prawn sandwich brigade (or shepherd's pie, actually) but it was nice and she and her family are very long term supporters of the club: they're definitely the real deal.

Unfortunately they lost: my run of previously only supporting the winning team in even the most unlikely circumstances (I have no idea what happened when I was eight but Perth Glory, Plymouth Argyle and Manchester City all won in style when I was there to see them) has been finally broken. 0-2 to Sheffield United but still Sheffield needed the points and the Bees are probably better consolidating rather than being promoted this season... I'm told.

Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner...?

I've been wondering recently what makes a true Londoner. Born within sound of Bow Bells? Grew up at an address with a cool London points of the compass postcode? Lived here for 10, 15, 20 years? Instinctively think that Britain is far more diverse than it is because that's how it is here (and know that's a good thing)? Never visit the major tourist attractions except when someone visits from out of town? Never smile at anyone on the tube and don't say good morning or afternoon to people going in the opposite direction when out for a stroll?

I'm mainly wondering because I'm not always sure that I feel like one anymore, though I was once, born and bred. I'm living in the same house now in Chiswick that I was first brought home to from the old West London Hospital. My parents are not Londoners, their families respectively being from the West Country and Scotland, but I grew up as a proud city girl, despite hardly ever venturing anywhere near the centre and being disgracefully ignorant of the geography of central London until I got my first 'proper' job in Covent Garden when I was about 23. I went travelling for a year after university and stayed in some amazing cities including Toronto, Sydney, Hong Kong and Moscow, but coming home knew that of all the places I'd been, I still loved my home town the best.

I moved out four years ago slightly on a whim, chasing a certain kind of job which didn't really exist in London, and feeling vaguely that since I was going to spend the rest of my life here, it'd be interesting to live somewhere else for a year or two before coming back for good. I was aware that you see life from a certain perspective in the capital and wanted to shake that up for myself a bit. Most of my friends, particularly those who also grew up here, were sceptical. "Why on earth would you want to live anywhere else" was the question at first and then later "So when are you coming back?"

My eventual return, though unsurprising to them, has been, to be honest, more born from practical considerations than anything else: I had no particular urge to come back other than missing friends and family. Having very mixed feelings about it was why I started this blog. Transport and rent costs have gone up about 40% since I left 4 years ago; I miss walking in the countryside, breathing clean air, seeing for miles, feeling the reality of what's under all our concrete; I don't like the restrictive inconveniences of having to share my space with millions of other people, such as difficulties parking, the hideousness of public transport at rush hour, how long it takes to get to work, how difficult it is to walk at any speed in Central London because of all the other people. On the other hand, nowhere in the UK is as diverse, cosmopolitan, and exciting. There are a myriad of things to do and discover, people to see and meet, and choices: the choice in London is incredible.

So: I know when it's quicker to walk than to take the tube, and that it often is in the centre of town. I know that you can find green spaces here as well as buildings. I don't think much of travelling an hour for a night out with friends or of getting two night buses to get home again. I call it my home 'town'. I walk through busy streets and fall in love with the city all over again. On the other hand, I'm not as slick with my Oystercard as I used to be. I see on the tube map that Tottenham Court Road isn't on the Northern Line and for a moment I can't quite remember if that's how it's always been - or not. I've chatted to people on the train. And, most of all, I can imagine moving back out again; quite possibly sooner rather than later.

I think that's what really makes a Londoner: not being able to understand why anyone would want to live anywhere else. We - they? - love their city, deeply, passionately. We - they - see its flaws but as though London is a relative and so, despite the fact it often infuriates us, can't be criticised by anyone else in our hearing. Friends, especially those who've grown up here and still live here, look at me as though I've committed an act of betrayal when I complain about our city. Somehow, inside, I look at myself that way too. To be honest, I'm not sure where that leaves me.

100 things: Pump House Gallery

Meanwhile, I've still not managed to make any special trips out to see anything else in London, but I did go for a meeting at the very special Pump House Gallery the other day in Battersea Park. I forgot to take a photo of it; by the time I remembered I was half way out of the park and it was too cold to go back. I got this shot of the lake at dusk instead!

The gallery is in a tiny building overlooking the lake, some way into the park. There is some interesting history about it on their website; it used to house a pump used to circulate water around the lake and the artificial waterfalls. It now has four floors inside and is still small but perfectly formed, comprising a permanent gallery space but housing changing exhibitions. What I liked was that although the exhibition wasn't enormous the current one is very good and not at all obvious. It's titled Art, Performance & Activism in Contemporary Japan and included work from various artists and in various formats. My favourite I think was a photo about age, with a younger woman's face being cradled by the hands of older women. Definitely worth a visit.

100 things: Tooting (and area) cafes

I'm working in Tooting at the moment and we have the most fantastic local greasy spoons, on top of the amazing curry houses. This picture is of Simon's Diner, in the car park of Wimbledon Greyhound Track. I love the decor and the portions are huge.

Also with huge portions and looking more like a traditional caff than an American Diner, is H's Cafe on Blackshaw Road. Both serve excellent, quality, no nonsense grub and both are unfortunately within 5-10 minutes walk of my office.

100 things: Baker Street tube station

Baker Street is obviously most famous for its associations with Sherlock Holmes and I'd almost forgotten there was a tube station there until being driven past it last week and coincidentally also dropped off there today, returning from Oxfordshire where I'd been for New Year's Eve.

I spotted this plaque on the wall and it reminded me that however much I hate the tube sometimes, it's pretty amazing that here we are, still using the world's first underground railway. This platform, now home to the Circle and Hammersmith & City lines, is the oldest at Baker Street tube station, which was originally built for the Metropolitan and St John's Wood railway (now of course the Metropolitan Line) and was later also a terminus for the Baker Street & Waterloo railway: now the Bakerloo line. For comparison there is a nice chromolithograph of the platform as it looked in 1863 here.

100 things: Reformers' Tree monument

Just happened across this yesterday when randomly walking across Hyde Park (because the Circle Line was down and District Line closed between High Street Kensington and Edgware Road leaving no sensible way of getting from Chiswick to Lancaster Gate on the tube, grumble grumble). It's to commemorate a tree which was burned down in the Reform Riots of 1866, the stump of which then became a noticeboard for political demonstrations (all from the Press Factsheet on the Royal Parks website). Apparently a new tree was planted in 1977 but I couldn't tell if that had since gone or if this monument was not actually on the site of the tree.

My historical knowledge being appalling I didn't know about the Reform Riots but here's some info from the National Archive website:

Following the 1832 Reform Act, periodic demands for the extension of the right to vote continued. Further attempts at parliamentary reform took place in the 1860s. By 1865, both Liberal and Conservative leaders, William Gladstone and Benjamin Disraeli, were convinced of the case to extend voting rights. In 1866 reform demonstrations turned to riots in Hyde Park and Trafalgar Square. The Reform Acts of 1867 and 1884 extend parliamentary voting rights: firstly in 1867 to the urban adult male householders and male lodgers paying £10 for unfurnished rooms, and secondly in 1884 to men living in the countryside (under the same conditions).

100 things: Rivoli Ballroom

Behind an unprepossessing bingo hall style frontage, deep in South West London, is the Rivoli Ballroom, a red-tinted world of gilt, velvet and dancing. It's over the top, down to earth, camp, cliquey and accessible all in the same breath.

We went to Jacky's Jukebox, £9 entry, a night which happens on the first Saturday of the month and which has a mix of all sorts of music, mainly heavily romantic. There was an exhibition dance taking place as we arrived and then it featured everything from an Argentinian Tango to waltzes, the polka, line dancing and even seventies disco. We'd gone for a girls' night out dancing. It was really completely the wrong place for that: there were a lot of quite formal couple dances and almost everyone knew all the moves, so we spent most of the evening watching from the sidelines. However, people seemed to be having a fabulous time and on the odd occasions (the easier line dances, Saturday Night Fever, and one of our number who was a little bit more skilled and so could dare to ask someone to polka) we did get up and have a go, everyone was perfectly friendly and put up with our ineptitude.

The ballroom features in Elton John's original 1983 video for I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues but to really experience it you need to go. It's a gem.

100 things: Street art in Shoreditch

Of all things to love in London, I think street art in Shoreditch has to come pretty near the top of the list. Yet, though I've walked through the area a hundred times, I'd never really looked at until this weekend, when a friend and I had an absolutely brilliant time doing the Shoreditch Street Art Trail by HiddenCity. Of course you could do this more cheaply on your own by just wandering around, but for a bit of a challenge and help finding hidden gems, I thoroughly recommend it to anyone, long term and new Londoners alike.

You play this treasure hunt style game in teams - either just one team of two-four people, for the fun of it, or against your friends. We coincidentally started the hunt at roughly the same time (ok, I'll brag, just AFTER though we finished well ahead!) as another pair of people and as we both like a bit of competition it did add a frisson of excitement to our trail. Once you've signed up and paid your £16 per team online, you find the start point (in Hoxton Square), text "START" to the contact number, and you're off with your first, faintly but not too horribly cryptic clue pointing you in the direction of your first piece of art. At each stage you have to first find it, and then answer a question about it, to get the next clue - and it's all timed. You get two half hour breaks in pubs to take a breather and the whole thing took us just over three hours. We sailed through most of it, with finding the art the hardest bit: we did cheat twice, once asking a friendly bartender who gave us a hint and once giving up and using the official "HINT" function only to receive a clue which confirmed we were in the right place already, but just hadn't spotted it yet.

Along the way you see some amazing art (I've tried to avoid photos of the clues here but warn you that some of the links below may include spoilers), yes Banksy included, but also Nick Walker, Scavage, Christiaan Nagal, Ben Eine, Space Invader, Mackay, Conor Harrington, Ronzo and others whose work is unattributed. Suddenly, also, you're looking for it everywhere, and we saw as much that wasn't part of the trail as that was. Shoreditch seems to be an absolute mecca for street artists and although not all of it is beautiful, quite a lot is absolutely amazing.

We had a brilliant time, and although we then slightly ruined our individualist credentials by eating in a commercial restaurant chain, we desperately tried to scrape them off the floor again afterwards by sampling cocktails from, amongst other places, Boho Mexica and the secret bar behind the fridge (ssssshhh) at the Breakfast Club in Shoreditch (though I don't remember the restaurant being where the official website says it is - even more of a mystery. Entirely possible that I was seeing it through a slight haze of alcohol however). I'd had a run of good but safe cocktails so decided to finish with a brave chilli and lemongrass margarita - it was an excellent end to an excellent evening.

100 things: St James's Park to the National Portrait Gallery

I've not got around to writing this post for a while and I think it's because, you know, the National Portrait Gallery is fab and all that but it didn't quite have the thrill of discovery of some of the other places I've been so far. This was perhaps particularly because of the unfortunate arrival, while I was going round the First Actresses exhibition, of a class of either sixth formers or  new undergraduates (young, reasonably trendy, monosyllabic) and their very loud, confident, slightly patronising teacher, whose voice echoed around the space and made it really difficult to focus on what I was looking at. In Italy tour guides were banned from a lot of places, a policy I liked.

However, I'm starting near the end. I began by getting off the tube at St James's Park. One of the things that I think a lot of non-Londoners don't realise is how walkable the city centre actually is. The tube map, though beautiful, is quite deceptive. St James's Park tube station in a way isn't the best place to start, despite its name, because it brings you to the middle of the south of the park rather than to one end, but it was a bit of a last minute thought, when I realised that I could do a good route through the park, up Whitehall and across Trafalgar Square to the gallery. The park was lovely, the leaves were all autumnal, the pelicans were unexpected but there were a few too many tourists about.

Whitehall was a bit disappointing too. I don't need all the fingers on one hand to remember the number of times I've knowingly walked up Whitehall, which is perhaps a bit rubbish for a so-called-Londoner, but I'm quite glad I haven't bothered more often. You think it's going to be so much more impressive than it is. I was struck by the number of red telephone boxes around the HM Revenue and Customs building. Do people particularly need to make phone calls when coming out of there or is it just to cater to the tourist photo opportunities? There were lots of those happening. My favourite things were these slightly random but impressive wrought iron gates and the memorial to the women of World War Two which I'm not sure I knew about before: shame it's in the middle of a busy road like the Cenotaph, but rather beautifully evocative with all the empty uniforms hung up on pegs: not only symbolising the work done by women during the war but also the way in which many of them had to give up those jobs again afterwards, probably mostly reluctantly.

Making it to Trafalgar Square I managed to get a rare photo of one of the lions without a person on it or in front of it. Thinking about it I should have checked out the Fourth Plinth - I think it's the Ship in the Bottle at the moment, and I do like the contemporary art concept - but instead I paused for some lunch and a quick squiz at St Martin's. There's a church which is successfully engaging with what's going on around it, frequently hosting demonstrations on its steps and running a programme of support for the homeless, without sacrificing some revenue opportunities like the Cafe in the Crypt.

Finally I got to the National Portrait Gallery. I do like it very much: I'm a fan of portraits generally and it definitely bears repeat visits as there is so much there, and the exhibitions change regularly, particularly downstairs with the modern sections. I've been quite recently (to see the BP Portrait Award as also recommended by Lucy, which was fab and I'd have willingly gone to again but has now finished) but it didn't matter at all. Looking at the website there is a lot that looks interesting which I didn't see. Though of course the main part of the gallery is free and I'm not normally a big one for paying for exhibitions if I don't have to, I did fork out £2 for the Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize, which was really interesting even if I do slightly agree with the controversy over the winner, and also for the First Actresses exhibition as already mentioned, more expensive at £12. I wouldn't necessarily recommend this to everyone unless you're particularly interested in the subject, even on days when annoying teachers aren't around, but I did my undergraduate dissertation on the actresses so felt it was worth a look, and there are some lovely portraits. I particularly liked the couple by Reynolds and one of Lavinia Fenton. I was also quite surprised by how many of them went on to become writers and playwrights: I've read about Mary Robinson but didn't realise there were quite a few others such as Elizabeth Inchbald and Sarah Siddons. You hear more often either about their scandalous reputations or how they left the stage when they got married: perhaps typical of how women have been portrayed in history.

I did also go up to the top floor restaurant as recommended, and the view did indeed look quite amazing over the rooftops towards Trafalgar Square on a rather misty day, but it seemed a bit too posh to be worth it for a solo cup of tea. The menu looked good: perhaps somewhere to go for a treat before the theatre? Not really for someone trying to rediscover London on a budget. Otherwise, not too bad an afternoon on balance: thanks Leah, Rose, and Lucy.

100 things: Southbank Centre

I met a friend of mine on the South Bank on Saturday and we immediately regretted it. She had her baby with her in a pram and the river bank was packed with people out to see the Christmas markets, or pose with the "characters" (why on earth? Vikings, Mickey Mouse..) and it was hard work manoeuvring through them. We did pause to enjoy a cup of Gluhwein though the whole thing does make me wonder why we have to pretend to be Germany to have Christmas markets. What happened to mulled wine and why the hideous fake chalet huts? Sigh, bah humbug, etc.

Anyway for some respite we went into the Southbank Centre, that megalithic arts centre that consists of the Hayward Gallery, the Royal Festival Hall and the Queen Elizabeth Hall. We found our way to the badly signposted and incredibly badly positioned lift on the river side of the building, in a corner accessed by a narrow corridor around the side of a restaurant with a column and a cashpoint queue blocking the way. I've always found the Southbank Centre rather confusing to get into.  Still, it was worth it once we were there.

The first fantastic thing about the Centre is that you can pretty reliably guarantee there will be something going on to hear or look at. This weekend there was free live music happening in the Clore Ballroom as part of the London Jazz Festival. It's a crazy place, really, with an amazing potential therefore for events. It's open to the foyer on Level 2, albeit down some stairs, so that you can have a seated audience who feel as though they're in a separate space, but also anyone wandering past can see what's going on.

There are numerous exhibitions taking place, too, including one of artwork by prisoners. We had a look at the World Press Photo exhibition, much of which was rather horrific but, probably, necessary in some sense, photographs of war and suffering. My favourite by contrast was a wonderful shot by Andrew McConnell of a woman practising the cello, divided from a rundown street in the Congo by only a sheet of green corrugated plastic. Apparently she is a member of Central Africa’s only symphony orchestra, most of whom are self taught. It is a wonderful image.

The downsides were that they'd not noticed it was a mild day and the heating was on full blast - we had a rather hot baby getting increasingly unhappy so couldn't stay as long as we wanted to - and it's confusingly laid out, but all in all, I like the Southbank Centre. It's such a basic thing about being an accessible, welcoming arts space: that when people come in there will be something to do and a reason to be there, and on Saturday people had come in their droves. Not all of it is in the Centre's hands, either. There have been various attempts to close down the skate park underneath and snotty criticisms of it by art critics but it is, fabulously in contrast to the smart glass fronted brand heavy shops and cafes next door, still going strong. I don't think good art is created in some rarefied place where people don't dare to enter. That kind of art doesn't engage with reality, with humanity, in a way which is meaningful to me. Of course there is more to it than allowing the bustle of Londoners and tourists from tacky Christmas markets spread into your foyers, but it's all part of it.

100 things: Battersea Power Station and the New Covent Garden Flower Market

 There are many iconic London buildings, but Battersea Power Station is one of my all time favourites. Partly, I've realised, because it's a real Londoner's - or at least British - landmark. It's not on all the t-shirts, it's not known all over the world, but there is a huge affection for it in the city itself. It is probably almost as important to us Londoners as Big Ben, the red London bus or the black taxi and feels a bit more like it's our very own.

It's not exactly one of those places, however, that you can just pop in and visit, so I was thrilled then when I got the chance to help my friend set up the flowers for an event there on Thursday, and even more so because it was the Gala Night, in aid of Great Ormond Street, for the ATP Grand Masters Finals. Me at 17 would have been hysterical with excitement, despite the fact that we went home long before any tennis players were anywhere near the place.

First though we went to the New Covent Garden Market, which was moved down to Battersea in 1974 when it was realised that the centre of town was a bit of a daft place to have a commercial market with big lorries visiting. We were just there to pick up some plates from the Flower Market which hadn't made it into the original order, so it was relatively deserted, but quite an amazing place. It's huge, for a start, going on forever inside and out - you really do wonder how they ever ran it in it's original home, though I can see why the traders at the time might have been pissed off at being forced out. It costs a fiver to get in (though we managed to wangle it for free, it being after trading hours) but you'd save a lot if you had a load of Christmas decorations and/or presents to buy.

Then we headed off for the Power Station itself. (Headed is an odd word, isn't it? Is it right? I feel like it ought to be "hade" - though I do know it isn't - past tenses are weird things). According to the latest developer's website the site has always been contentious, as when it was in use the power station was polluting first of the air and then of the river. It was also considered to be an eyesore. What I didn't know was that it was built in two halves, two chimneys at a time (divided in half lengthways). It still is contentious today as there have been various development proposals that haven't ended up happening. The current one seems to drown the building in expensive high rise apartment blocks.

However, though frequently host to illustrious events like the ATP Gala, the Power Station is dilapidated and crumbling. There is scaffolding round the towers, the entrance tunnel, and the whole of the inside; the ironwork is rusting; the tiling falling off. Weeds and bushes fill the inside, apart from the slightly scruffy events tent with one see through plastic end which admittedly looked better when it got dark and roving spotlights lit up the towers.

We got down to business, making trees and setting up flower arrangements. I mostly wired orchids (I didn't previously know this was a thing one could do), arranged a few leaves, lights and flowers artistically according to instruction, and helped load and unload, while my friend and her business partner (unashamed advertising here, they got me in there, they deserve it, but also just to say that the arrangements looked even better in real life, iPhones are not terribly good in the dark) worked their creative genius.

Meanwhile I, ridiculously, was secretly emotional while they were playing through the event videos to practise for the evening (yes, at the PRACTISE RUN OF THE VIDEOS - STILL NOT EVEN ANY ACTUAL TENNIS PLAYERS). Sorry, did I say that at 17 I would have been hysterical with excitement? Well I managed to avoid actual hysteria but it was still a tiny bit thrilling. I did wonder how easy it would be, if I'd had black clothing with me, to just join the hundreds of waitressing staff milling around and stay... but by then we were all exhausted and going back to my friend's house for beef bourgignon and wine felt like a better prospect for (maybe only slightly more) sensible, 32 year old me.