We went down to that there London Town this weekend, to see Iggy and the Stooges and stay at my sister's fabulous boutique hotel on the Isle of Dogs.Well it was her house really, but as it used to be mine and we've both been there loads, it felt like a fabulous, bijou hotel that's very familiar but now done up to the nines and just gorgeous. I'd recommend it, and it's sooooo reasonable!
I was only mildly upset that the guy at my old local curry house didn't recognise me. It has been over 7 years.
Anyway, Iggy was on his usual form for about the first 5 songs. These were the ones where we were very close to the front, so close in fact that Dr G was going to head to the stage for the usual stage invasion. But as he was the only thing stopping me being swept away, he stayed put.
I was off my feet completely, inside the crowd action, and feeling pretty hemmed in by this point as I couldn't see anything except lager cans and banging heads, so we got out. And had an ice cream (with a flake) and watched from the side.
I now feel bruised, as tho' Iggy himself has been pummelling me on the back for the last two days. I'm guessing this is nothing new to Iggy fans. However, it'll be a while before I go near a mosh pit again. I'm getting on y'know!
Yours with a birthday coming up
Lucy
1 comment:
I'm so jealous - getting close to the legendary Ig. Still haven;t managed to see him meself despite fandom stretching back thirty odd years. Mind you, you wouldn't find me anywhere near a mosh pit; I'll have a nice seat at the back, thank you.
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