Opera - I've tried hard but I'm afraid I can take it or leave it. But ballet, that's a different kettle of cultural fish. I Find myself left in envious admiration of the sheer athleticism.
So, with the Groupie and OG's aged mother to see the Birmingham Royal Ballet Nutcracker. The taxi journey into Birmingham was trouble-free (I'm a great one for worrying that something will go wrong with any plan I make) and left time aplenty for a pre-performance glass of overpriced, but passable, malbec. As things transpired the journey home was mildly blighted by the traffic in Birmingham's unruly city centre, but it was far too late in the day to cause any upset - it perhaps even added a frisson of local authenticity.
Birmingham Royal Ballet make their home at the Hippodrome, a quite fabulously classic proscenium arch with (as all such theatres should have) an upstairs and a downstairs. We were upstairs (Lower Circle Right) in not inexpensive seats. Still one definitely shouldn't carp at the price when you consider the magnificence of the staging, the size and ability of the orchestra, and the size and precision of the corps de ballet. And, of course, with Nutcracker, you get a sequence of Tchaikovsky's greatest hits. That plus proper dancing, not that clever modern stuff with spiky music. OG loved it. He's listening to the music now. I suspect this makes him a bit of a philistine. Oh well.
But wait, the day gets better before that character-forming, bladder-testing, return journey. Pig's party went for a late afternoon curry after the matinee performance. Now this was another part of the itinerary for the Pig to agitate over, for he had chosen the restaurant based on internet reviews and its proximity to the theatre. The Pig was triumphant and enthusiastically recommends Ark. In particular give the chicken chettinaadu a try.
So all in all a success and, I'll say this as well for The Nutcracker - it doesn't half put you in the mood for Christmas. As if my advent calendar wasn't enough to do that anyway.
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