After the show at Theatre 503. we wandered back into Battersea Park Road and along a few doors to the Italian restaurant. It was already almost full, but in keeping with most good Italian places, they said they would find a way to squeeze us in. Sure enough, they did, resorting to a special folding chair for me to squish against the end of the table. We then enjoyed some noble Montepulciano whilst we debated the play before turning to other matters. The food was fine and the evening was now slipping into the later part. Penguin had joined us, back from a recent trip to Barbados, and regaled us with stories of the rather snazzy resort he'd enjoyed during the last several days. And no soooner back in the UK, then he's off to Venice. I shall expect to see some photographs on the promised new blog. As if.
A joy of this part of London, and the subsequent return to Chelsea was that even at one thirty in the morning there are still quite a lot of folk meandering around the streets.
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