01/08/07: The Lion King, Around London II and The 39 Steps

Wow. What a day. I’d walked out the last exam for this summer program and onto Suffolk Street thinking ‘Now what?’. I was actually quite lost. I’d bought a ticket home for tomorrow. In less than 24 hours, I was out of here. How does one go about spending their last day in London? Personally, I went walking back to my dorm room for a nap and a wee cry. As soon as I lay down on the bed, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I just wasn’t going to fall asleep. So I may as well make the most of my last day there. I had half an hour. I knew that The Lion King was playing in half an hour. I got changed in a hurry, grabbed my bag and ran all the way to Russell Square Station. By the time I got to the theatre, I was puffed, sweaty, tired as anything (don’t forget this is following several days of late-night study sessions and exam stress), and ready to blow some serious money on a ticket. And my god did they make me pay through the nose. You’d think a matinee would be cheaper. It wasn’t. Mind you, the seat wasn’t too bad. The show though, was somewhat disappointing.

I couldn’t quite say what it was. After Wicked, The Lion King seemed pedestrian to be honest. Maybe it was my already melancholic temperament; maybe it was because I was tired; maybe it was because I was surrounded by kids (every single little girl I saw there was wearing pink – I jest not: the audience looked like it had been snowing fairy floss). But I found the whole thing a little too interpretive – you know, like interpretive dancing? Where people are waving their arms and hands around and you have to guess whether they’re trying to show the audience that they a) feel like a bird trying to break free of this gilded cage; b) feel like the turbulent ocean; c) feel like an octopus in an octopus’ garden in the sea; or d) have pins and needles?

Having seen the movie that many times, the script was unfortunately all too predictable and I knew what was going to happen in the end. Even the songs seemed a little boring. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d wasted my time and money going to see The Lion King. Especially when there were so many other shows on offer in London. Ah well.

By this time, it was 5pm and I’d arranged to meet Steve for one last drink before I leave tomorrow. So met him I did and Steve being Steve, took me around his favourite haunts of London again, just like what he did on my first days here. It felt like something out of an English Lit class: the rounding up, the full circle, the completion of a journey thing. Scary. I took lots of photos, and by the time Steve kissed me goodbye at the station, I was ready to have a bit of a cry. And I probably would have if not for the fact that I’d made plans to meet up with Manish to watch another play that night at 8 – The 39 Steps.

Now this! This was grand. Everyone else had made plans for tonight of course, and this being a last minute plan, Manish and I ended up being the only ones there. He’d managed to get us some brilliant seats, and the theatre was only tiny. And I mean, tiny. There were no aisles, just the seats and the stage. The whole time I was watching this, all I could think of was how much Marg and Em and Tam would have enjoyed this, and even some of the drama kids at school. The play is based on a novel, set pre-war. It takes you from a man’s apartment, to theatres, across England, to Scotland, and then some. And all this, with nothing but a cast of four, some amazing lighting and sound works, great mimes and voice changes. There were minimal props, and basically it was like one of those old radio soaps acted out. Ah it was truly something that had to be seen to be believed. There were scenes where there were about 6 characters on stage but only 3 cast members. It was brilliant. I thoroughly enjoyed every little minute of it.

There was actually a massive booze-up happening at the student accom that night, and several boys were waiting for Manish. But after the show, he and I stopped by HJ’s in Piccadilly Circus (or Burger King as they call it over there) and had a meal and chatted and watched the world go by outside. We talked about everything and anything for absolutely ages. It was strange because we hadn’t been particularly close at all during the last six weeks in London; but I couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend my last night in London.