Thursday 11 February 2010

Burton goes to London


Dear Readers, such excitement as I feel, even now, as I write to you. I was really too tired last night after our big day in the Capital. But now - it all seems a wonderful blur.
The Archdruid being of the Liverpool-supporting faction, while I am of the Gooner persuasion, she very kindly organised what she referred to as "Corporate Hostility" for their annual meeting at the Arsenal home ground. I was sure she meant "Corporate Hospitality", but she assured me that she was right.
We went down early, and paid our respects to the Kirsty MacColl memorial bench in Soho Square.
At this point, the Archdruid said she was going to "pop in" to the General Synod, which by a remarkable co-incidence was also happening in London yesterday. What a truly wonderful place it must be, to have two events of such excitement on the same day!
So the Archdruid left me on Kirsty's bench, requesting that I keep notes of whether the pigeons, "shivering in the naked trees", decided to fly.
I'll be honest. Soho Square is a beautiful oasis in the Metropolis. But three hours was a long time to sit on a bench watching pigeons.
When the Archdruid returned, and we set off on the magical Picadilly Line (they have trains that run underground in London - can you imagine?), she was kind enough to explain to me the events at the Synod. But unaccountably, as she was telling me about how people had to walk through doors to vote on whether to vote on an amendment to the amendment of an amendment, I blacked out. Must have been a chill on the brain as a result of all that pigeon-watching.
Of the first half of the game I will say little, for indeed there is little to say. But in the second -oh, the Arsenal came alive! A wonderful cross for the winning goal! But I have to say that the reminder of the game proved that it was indeed "Hostility" that was Corporate. I wouldn't say someone as spiritual as the Archdruid sulked, but she did accidentally bruise my shins with her steel toe-caps once or twice, while jumping around trying to keep warm.
The evening ended in terror, as I cycled down the snow-covered back roads of Bedford on my way back to Husborne Crawley. The Archdruid said she didn't want to risk steering or braking problems with me in the car, so she drove to and from the station alone. Which I suppose was considerate of her - not wanting any harm to come to me - but she doesn't actually drive a Toyota. Still, better safe than sorry.

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