(If anyone got that title reference, let me know. We'll be friends for life. I'll give you a hint: Big) For Jason's birthday blowout, we decided to go to Greenwich for the Riverfront Jazz Festival. And what better way to get to Greenwich than by a boat cruise? Thus began the celebrations. After arriving in Greenwich and checking in to the hotel, we went to a pub that was hosting all day jazz music and camped out with the cutest old couple I have ever seen in my life. The lady must have been at least 75 years old and she was kitted out in a bright red blouse with a rather snappy little black vest number (and a barrette in her hair that pulled the whole emsemble together) and was chair dancing like I've never seen! And she kept wanting to make sure we knew there was free food and why didn't we got make ourselves a plate? Soooo cute. Anyway, we basically jazzed all afternoon and all night. With the exception of the little break we took to go to Greenwich Park to see the Prime Meridien zero longitude line and the clock that keeps time for the whole world which was pretty cool.
Sunday, I woke Jason up by singing happy birthday and presenting him with a tray of cookies with a birthday candle in one. And we decided that just because we were out of London was no reason to give up our Sunday morning tradition of coffee and the Sunday Times paper.
I mean, we had another full day of jazzing so we needed fuel, yes?
After the Jazz Brunch at our hotel, we had tickets to the Jazz Cruise. Twenty-five-quid-each tickets to the Jazz Cruise. Turns out, it wasn't jazz at all. It was these clowns:
Now, Swing-slash-Jive music is fine. If that's what you paid fifty quid to hear. But we paid fifty quid to hear jazz. Not these clowns:
Yes, I posted that twice on purpose because I want you to get the full effect of the situation. Nonetheless, it was rather entertaining to watch all the people who were pleased as punch to pay twenty-five quid each to dance to these clowns:
They were spinning around and flailing about and jitterbugging all over the place, nearly knocking over waiters and anyone else who dared to try and walk by them.
Meanwhile, the birthday boy was busy with this little creation:
Very avant-garde, no? It's modern art. I don't expect everyone to see its genius.
And part of the hard work involved in collecting materials for the above art display:
And just for fun, I've added this photo taken towards the end of the cruise:
This is the tiny little patch of London (Canary Wharf) that has tried with all its might to be NYC. And in the process, has lost every ounce of the character that makes London beautiful.
The birthday weekend celebration extravaganza spectacular came to a conclusion upon our return to Fulham and a trip to Jason's favorite restaurant. It's a tiny, family owned, Sicilian-Italian place and every time we go there, I end up physically in pain because I stuff myself beyond capacity.
When we got home, I gave him his presents and cards and there was even a little something from Jason's friend Cheddar, who you may remember from our escapades a couple of weeks ago.