Concert: Namvula
Tonight, back with the World Music Meetup (and Tuned In London) for a concert by the Scottish/Zambian singer Namvula, at City Hope Church. Tickets through Billetto. And yes, closer to my new place, so it'd be really nice to be able to stay there tonight..
In the end, I decided against it - the simple problem is that so many of the things I'm going to are closer to the old place! but I did decide to take down the case I was trying to take down last week - when I lost my phone. Happily, things were so much easier this time - the buses weren't too slow, nothing got lost - and, crucially, I managed to get all the locks open! Hallelujah. A real shame it took so long, though - I could have moved a lot more stuff.
The traffic near the new place was like treacle - by the time I'd dumped the case there, it was time to set off again. I could take any of a number of buses - for two stops! I could also have walked, but honestly, I was tired and didn't feel like it. In the end, I arrived at around the start time. Met another member of the group - whom I hadn't seen in an age - in the bar, and had a very nice glass of wine. Which the barman promised I could take in - if I behaved! ;-)
The concert started a bit late:
Well, there's hope on the horizon, with another couple of things fixed today - and this was the perfect antidote to all my stress. The guitarist had a plethora of clever electronics to help him achieve the sounds he wanted - I wasn't surprised to hear he is in quite a good band. The singer - beautiful voice, gorgeous melodies: and she passed around cards, blank on the back, for us to write "messages to our younger selves" on:
The message throughout was one of love and harmony, as she mixed ethereal songs with catchier numbers - at the end, she was up and dancing, with our organiser and the photographer; they didn't manage to persuade the audience as a whole, though! but it was sweet, soulful, and beautiful. As so often with these concerts, I left refreshed.
Hadn't actually had time to eat beforehand, so I nipped to the Cornish Pasty Company in London Bridge on the way back to the old flat. He warned me about how hot it was, and he wasn't joking - cool enough to eat by the time I got home. I wouldn't go for it again though, I didn't like the taste, and didn't finish it.
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