We met on a cold winter night before a roaring fire in a 14th century pub just before Christmas 1994. A smouldering beauty who bristled with warning signs, do not come near. Yet we became friends. And we still are today.
I've had marvellous weekend with Jayne near Cambridge rekindling old times, indulging in fine food and good beer and for the first time opera. Last night I sat in sheer wonderment listening to the unbelievable Don Giovanni performed by the English Touring Opera. What skill, what tension, what technique, what power. I was amazed. And at the end I shuddered as the ghost rose from the dead and Don Giovanni was dragged off to hell. The joy of singing in English made it clearer to me. And it is so much less dark than I feared, very funny in places.
For all the joy it did make me feel a musical failure. I was good but not that good. I know my limitations and am too far removed from a modest singing career ever to go back. Did I have too much too young? Perhaps but I'm not ready to go back yet anyway.
The foodie weekend was a little mixed, The Phoenix let us down with dry crispy duck, Cau gave us poor advice on steaks and mine was pretty tough second time around after the first effort was so far removed from rare it was inedible. Then we rather overcooked the rib of beef today; that will teach us to do for a pint in The Barley Mow while it was in the oven.
I'm so glad I went though. I miss Jayne and all these years later I'm still jealous that she lives in Cambridge and I don't.
A light supper of tomato and feta salad with coriander, olive oil and pepper awaits. Then I think a film. Happy May Day all of you.
I Heard a Voice.
Nice
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