Theatre; Newport; restored hearing

Bit of culture on 2nd April by going to see Peter Morgan’s play The Audience at the Gielgud Theatre, with Helen Mirren and assorted others. Most annoyingly, my continuing hearing loss (at the time) interfered with the play rather more than I had been expecting – not sure why I’d been imagining that it wouldn’t, but having paid £60 for a ticket to what was apparently a rapidly-sold out production, I was unwilling not to go. Although Ruth is more of a politics/history fiend than I am, I enjoyed what I could hear of it, especially the scenes between HM and Harold Wilson. The tall and distinctive-looking Haydn Gwynne seemed slightly odd casting to play Mrs Thatcher, but who knows what these things are based on.

Pre-play we went for an early dinner at Brown’s on St Martin’s Lane, an establishment obviously well set up for pre-theatre suppers. Ruth’s faith in Brown’s had been shaken by apparently mediocre food and service in the branch that opened on Reading’s Oracle a year or so ago, but this latest visit evidently served to restore it: the gammon and mash she had was apparently excellent and my crab and prawn linguine I had was one of the nicest seafood pastas I’ve had.

Booked the day off on the 5th for a general mosey down in the Newport direction, though ended up having a rather less cultural and constructive day than I’d originally intended. Started off early and took the AA Route Planner’s advice on the most direct route to Bristol, via the A420 from the Botley Interchange down to Swindon. Made my way to Cribbs Causeway and breakfasted at Carluccio’s, followed by a couple of hours mooching around the shops. Then drove across to Newport where I had managed to book my first £29 Premier Inn room (a reminder once again that I am quite easily pleased) at the branch near junction 24 of the M4. In fact, ‘near’ is almost an understatement, as the hotel couldn’t be any closer to the motorway without actually being on it, but that didn’t bother me overly as I hadn’t booked it for the views. Had meant to go out in the afternoon after check-in but the lure of a leisurely bubble bath and free (well, free initially anyway) wi-fi caused me to become shamefully overcome with laziness.

Rose early on the Saturday determined to actually do something, and parked near my brother’s house on Chepstow Road and walked into the centre of Newport intent on breakfast and sightseeing. Looked out the Java Coffee House on Charles Street, which I’d noted online somewhere while looking up places to go in the area – coffee wasn’t perfect but was at least of a decent strength. Extremely friendly staff who asked what I was doing in the area, regaled me with the latest developments and controversies affecting Newport town centre, and suggested various things I could do, though many of them involved leaving Newport - the Roman extravaganza at Caerleon seemed a popular recommendation. In the end I walked up from the cafe a short though quite steep distance to St Woolos Cathedral, as somewhere Mum had mentioned, and had a mooch around - quite peaceful, probably because I was the only person there.

There's been a church on the site since around the fifth century, when one Gwynllyw built a wattle and daub structure there. NB although the blurb has it that 'Woolos' is a corruption of Gwynllyw, it sounds less a corruption than an abandonment of attempts to pronounce it ("Gwynllffx ... Gwyncchhh ... sod it, Woolos").

After exhausting the cathedral's charms I made my way back down into the town and had a quick mosey around the museum, before heading out to the riverbank and taking a walk down what looked like quite a new riverside walkway, in the direction of the Transporter Bridge, which appears to be the city's most advertised attraction. I didn't make it quite as far as the bridge, as it's a fair way out of the town, but reached a point where I could take some rather underwhelming photos of it. It's an intriguing structure though seems a faff of a way to cross a river. The gondola appears to have a little turret on it, which is kinda cute. It was actually moving across when I viewed it, but isn't really visible on any of my photos - better photo on the Wikipedia page above.

Post-sightseeing I made my way back to Dave's house to join various of our and Hazel's families for Nia's first birthday party. Mum had gone positively wild with the Betty Crocker and had produced two large cakes, one chocolate, one carrot, plus a batch of caramel fairy cakes. Met Hannah's new beau Henry, who seems like a nice chap. Received advice from Mum's cousin Jonathan on ear syringing (apparently he has been having his done regularly since he was about 12) and from Uncle Ian on whether my next career move should possibly be getting into the online ancestry data business. Food for thought I guess.

Had ears syringed on Tuesday 9th, after returning to the Red House Surgery once the two-week olive oil sentence was up to demand some form of more concerted action. A rather less gentle and pleasant procedure than I had been expecting – for some reason had been imagining a soothing influx of warm water, whereas the actual procedure is more akin to a jet wash – but certainly it immediately restored my hearing. Returned to the office where I was almost deafened by the fan on Victoria’s PC.

Went for a Friday night dinner with Ruth at Quattro last Friday - I have been resisting Quattro for a while as the food isn't really good enough to justify what's always around a £45 bill (though doubtless it would help if we guzzled less wine). It is, however, a local Italian, though it doesn't quite fit my romantic desire for an old-fashioned neighbourhood Italian with naff decor and candles stuffed into straw-wrapped Chianti bottles.

Walked up to Whiteknights on Sunday afternoon to one of the Harris Garden Open Days - not sure Ruth had been banking on the circa 1 hour walk up there, but I managed to insist that I needed the exercise. We compensated on arrival by going for immediate tea and cake from the Red Cross ladies before actually looking at any plant life. The gardens still had something of an emerging from winter look about them, but we got to see inside the walled garden - which had much the same look, but the old walls are quite atmospheric. Never been in there before as it always seemed to be shut the times I went into the gardens as a staff member. When boredom struck Ruth got the bus home to have her hair cut (amazingly, Karin turned up this time) while I walked down to Cemetery Junction to visit Claire and spent a couple of hours drinking more tea. Noted on the way that Bridges Hall appears to be being demolished; also noted that this handsome house on Hamilton Road is still for sale - despite being labelled on Rightmove as a 'Premium Listing', it's actually been for sale for some time. Hamilton Road contains some sizeable Victorian properties but is on the whole rather less primped and preened than roads of similar properties in Caversham Heights - it's probably the student element and the proximity to C. Junction. Still, if it comes down by a few more bob, I'll buy it.