Missing Miranda

Me and Lyndsey went up to London at the weekend to watch an episode of Miranda being filmed; my first time to the BBC headquarters and I was very excited, even though it took us an age to get there – Sunday service meant that our train was routed via Lewes and the journey was interminable; an experience not helped by my decision to spend it reading Saul Bellow’s ‘Dangling Man’, a super little novel but counter-productive if one is looking to escape, rather than consolidate, a feeling of stasis and ennui. In the end I resorted to taking photographs out of the window.

When we got – finally – up to White City we found that, of course, the recording had been cancelled at the last minute; no explanation nor forewarning. It was maddening; others had apparently reacted tearfully, but something about the long journey had prepared me for the fact somehow. We had, in the end, a nice evening regardless, wandering through Covent Garden eating ice-cream. We eventually found a pub off Leicester Square which, to our mutual amazement and joy, had Brew Dog Punk IPA on tap – making up at a stroke for the earlier disappointments. (Until the long journey back).

Anyway, here’s the view at East Croydon, on our way in.


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