Thursday evening saw us in the studio audience for Radio 4's The Now Show, lapping up songs about IKEA and those Chinooks that can't fly in the rain.
On Good Friday, we gatecrashed verlaine's and bluedevi's meeting with miss_newham (hello and welcome!) and went to see Zatoichi, which I heartily recommend. Cartoonish gore, humour, an appealing hero (the eponymous blind samurai) and a plot you could actually follow reasonably well most of the time, though there was a little too much filler; I always zone out slightly at the point in Japanese films (or indeed Man from UNCLE episodes) when geishas appear and spend ten minutes playing plinky instruments and waving fans about.
Then all we had to do was wait...and wait...until wardy arrived, having taken a scenic detour via Hackney (quite an achievement when driving up from Southampton), fill him with pizza and vodka and introduce him to the joys of The Naked Gun.
Saturday was The Adventures of Tintin at Sea at the National Maritime Museum. Focusing on the many Tintin stories with a nautical theme - The Shooting Star, The Secret of the Unicorn and The Red Sea Sharks to name but three - it was a charming, interesting exhibition and well worth a fiver. Big comic panel murals, material from Hergé's cuttings archive showing the meticulous research which made his drawings of binnacles and sextants so convincing, and lots of original sketches. Oh, and of course the gift shop at the end. Tintin merchandise is always expensive but lovely; I guess the copyright holders, Moulinsart, won't approve anything that's not top notch. wardy bought an egg cup and I bought a fountain pen, not having used one since prep school, and we both bought the book of the exhibition, which is already changing hands on eBay for £££s. (Not our copies, of course.)
After pies and mash but not eels at Greenwich's pie, mash and eel shop, we headed into town for the londonfurs meet. Quite a crowd at this one, and a grand selection they were too.
In the evening klepsydra played host to a veritable pick n' mix of fine people (hello and welcome also to eslington!), notably all but the North American contingent of the Thunderbolt Black posse. I haven't laughed so much in a long time, though that may be related to the rhubarb vodka and the extra strength absinthe bhata improbably found in the strange little offie up the road from me.
Sunday was mostly spent eating. Easter is, after all, just Eater with an added S (for Sugar). addedentry gave me a Lindt chocolate bunny because he knows I like animals, and I gave him a Terrys Chocolate Orange Segsations egg because I know he likes silly amounts of chocolate. We had also cunningly got ourselves invited to lunch by Owen's brother in Catford and to tea by my grandma in Beckenham. The eatfulness is horrific.
On Easter Monday we took advantage of cheap tickets from Chiltern Railways to visit a friend in Birmingham, which is not the most attractive city in the world but perfectly adequate for pootling around, with a nice, modern shopping centre.
I spent the train journey up engrossed in the GBA version of 007 Nightfire, on extended loan from kowarth. By the time we reached Birmingham I was having difficulty focusing on anything further than three inches from my nose, and had to fight a constant urge to duck behind things. Most annoying game ever.
And thus back to work. At least it's a four-day week.