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Somewhere that's green: Potty the Plant at Wiltons Music Hall

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"I'm Potty the Plant," sings a potted plant in this odd little fringe concept of a show. It's hard not to get the tune out of your head, even if the show is brief. It's an earworm for a show that features a worm-like plant as a puppet. And given the show's brevity, running at only an hour, it's hard to get too annoyed by a lack of a coherent story, even if it still seems like the show could use a bit more development (which is underway). It has made its London debut at Wilton's Music Hall. The premise is that Potty, the plant, lives in the hospital office of Dr Acula (geddit?) and dreams of a life with the cleaning lady Miss Lacey (Lucy Appleton). But Dr Acula might be responsible for why all these children are disappearing while trying to romance Miss Lacey for her family's money that she doesn't have. Three nurses are on the case, trying to solve the mystery.  If the show settled on a convincing plot, location and set of characters, it could ...
Well there are worse things than sweating at the airport at Narita...

After an emotionally driaining flight to Narita where only the calmative properties of Maxolon could soothe the savage headache and everything else that I had, I was looking forward to the hotel stay at Narita to at least get a shower. A pity that the transfer bus was a little late and so we all had to wait outside in the heat and the smog for the next bus. As beads of sweat dripped from me everywhere I thought I was about to pass out. Only the Sondheim song "It's hot in here" kept me amused and conscious.

By the time I got to the hotel I was too exhausted to contemplate a trip to Tokyo. Maybe next time when it wasn't so bloody hot I thought. Fortunately the Japanese excel themselves with the wide range of isotonic drinks they have available. I spent the next 20 hours savouring them in mass quantities.

The next leg to London was bloody long but amusing enough. Although everywhere I went there were little reminders of Brisbane. The inflight movie was "Breakfast at Tiffany's" so that was a little sad to watch.

By the time I arrived at Heathrow I was just glad. Getting through immigration was surprisingly quick. The bureaucrat behind the counter asked me,
"So whatcha come to Britain for?"
"For a holiday?" was my reply
He looked though my passport and saw my visa and then corrected me
"... a WORKING holiday"
"Yeah"
"Okay off you go then"
So that was the surprisingly quick exchange that occurred.

Skye met me there at Heathrow and laughed at my baggage (my real baggage not my emotional). We stayed and had more isotonic drinks and Skye enjoyed a cheesy lasange.

After waiting an hour for the peak to subside and having her in tears about my final weeks in Brisbane we went on the tube. I was chatting to her and being very untube like in my manner which got us a few looks but apart from that things were okay.

Then when we had to change trains I had a laugh about the announcement that "due to somebody being under a train, all services for [such and such a ] line were cancelled".

For Skye she found it interesting that I laughed at it. Maybe all will be good here.

I slept at Lish's place and it was so nice to have a sleep.

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