Noble visitors

Comfortably settled against my numerous feather pillows and warming cup of tea, I thought I could hear a cat's meow. Really? Earlier I had looked out the window of Hazlitts Hotel onto a narrow lane way but I was one storey up and the only life outside was the ubiquitous pigeon cooing on a nearby window ledge. Meow...again! This time I could hear a scratching at my door so investigating I discover a sweet ginger cat outside my door. Kneeling to give the visitor a pat, I was rewarded with a deep belly rumbling purr. This stranger clearly wanted to enter my room but I resisted inviting this roving ginger in, so with another pat, he turned away and headed back down the staircase.

As lovely as my room is, I decided to change my surroundings so I packed up my laptop and phone and went down the stairs to take up my blog writing in the library. I pause and chat to Carl at the desk and I tell him of my visitor. "Ah, that would be Sir Godfrey" he informs me. "How unusual that he came visiting, he rarely leaves the ground floor" Carl says. I am thrilled with having had such a celebrated and noble visitor.

Outside it was still dark and cold and I was happy indeed to set myself up on the sofa, my items spread across the coffee table and when seeking inspiration, I could pause and gaze into the open fire. Curled up on the sofa I was engrossed in my writing when I hear an 'Hmmm, excuse me" and I look up to see an elderly gentleman and his wife gazing upon me. I was a little taken a back as he stood there looking dapper with grey hair, bow tie and pirate eye patch. "May we join you?" he asks, and what could I say? Of course, yes, I say.

"We have ordered tea" and so I clear my things and make way for their tea tray. I was not excluded from their conversation and some time was comfortably spent in conversation about art, museums and theatre. I was incredulousness that as locals they had not visited Kensington Palace and in return I was regaled with stories of her work as an Art Curator - 

Tonight I was combining my two passions into one - attending a musical and Tudor History with a ticket to Six, The Musical at the Arts Theatre in central London.

Six! Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Live! Just imagine if the (ex) wives of Henry VIII had the savvy of Beyonce - and you have an idea of how the musical develops. Incredibly catchy music which still holds true to the essence of each of these extraordinary women of his(Her)story. Walking back to Hazlitt's in the drizzle through Chinatown and high on the buzz of the music/Tudors, I was ecstatic. One of those moments when it's hard to believe you can contain your joy within your own skin.

Back at Hazlitt's I walk past the library towards the staircase and there is my pirate and his wife with a new person in conversation; a waif looking young woman. I'm waived in and asked how the show was and I exuberantly informed them of its worthiness. "This is our Granddaughter Venice, she is an actress" I am told and I smile. Of course it is only here in London that I would meet a young woman named Venice. 

What a remarkable day; I patted Sir Godfrey, drank tea with a pirate, shook hands with Venice and partied along with the Six Wives.