Theatre

On Sunday I was having something of a dearth of social options, let's say, and the idea of staying in and watching Downton Abbey – for what else does one do on a Sunday? - was proving a little difficult to bear. So, I thought I'd go to the theatre. I should really have come up with something terribly catty to put in here about theatre-going on a Sunday and then ascribed it to a certain dowager, but I can't seem to think of anything. Which must be why Julian Fellowes gets the fame and fortune and I, ah, don't. Anyway. I went to a small place in Lisson Grove called the Cockpit Theatre to see a show called A Broken Rose. Awfully good it was, too.

But first, and in keeping with the general purpose of this blog, my compatriot and I went to sample the pubs in and around the area. Well, pub, anyway. After peering into, and quickly retreating from, a number of, um, shall we say less than salubrious establishments we chanced across a Moroccan pub. Well, shisha bar. It was nice, it had shisha, so I suppose it lived up to expectations. Its supposedly-imported-but-actually-brewed-in-Slough European lager tasted like supposedly-imported-but-actually-brewed-in-Slough European lager. Which is always good. Um. The music was quite entertaining, and the fug of smoke made it fairly atmospheric. It probably has other good qualities, too.

Then we saw the play! Which was actually fantastic. It was billed as a dark, twisted fairytale and, to my happy surprise, turned out to be a dark, twisted tale about fairies. Performed in the round and with some excellent set and costume design it was the story of a girl's possibly real, possibly psychosis-induced invisible fairy friends. All happily mixed up with a smattering of substance abuse, domestic abuse, unwanted pregnancy, stage blood and a quite shocking – although in hindsight somewhat inevitable – conclusion. A solid Whisky Dog recommendation. Which we give to plays now, despite the name. And the other entries. 

So, we're out of the theatre, but it's a Sunday night, what to do? Still not wanting to return home and watch Downton, despite the appeal of Lady Mary's eyebrows, we ended up happily ensconced in the Allsop Arms. Located about halfway between Marylebone and Baker Street stations this pub carries the arguable mark of quality that comes from being the second pub on the Kensington and Marylebone arm of the Capital Cask Ale Trail. We at Whisky Dog like ale trails, so this was a good sign.

I would heartily recommend this pub, and its really very good Allsop Ale, to anyone who finds themselves with some time to waste in the area. It would be an excellent place to cleanse the palate if you were unfortunate enough to have had to face the grotesque appeal of Madame Tussauds, located about 5 minutes away.

In conclusion; a better evening than one spent watching Downton Abbey. And, really, what more can one ask for? 

Apart from Lady Mary's eyebrows, obviously...