The Hammersmith Apollo And I Just Don't See Eye-To-Eye
We took our girls to see The Wiggles – go on, laugh – last Saturday at the Hammersmith (aka HMV) Apollo. This is my third trip there, and each of those three visits has been marred by something unforeseen which has damn near ruined the trip.
The first time was in 2004 when we went to see Kings Of Leon for the first time. The venue was so hot that we had to leave halfway through (I wasn’t about to rip my t-shirt off like most of the other blokes – but strangely enough, not the women – were). The second time – for R.E.M. – it was snowing, so no risk whatsoever of overheating, but we never even got into the venue as we’d decided inexplicably that we couldn’t be bothered to go and see one of the biggest bands in the world in a relatively small venue and trekked over to the venue just to find myself royally fleeced, and rather concerned for my life, while exchanging the tickets for the cash equivalent of some magic beans down an alley way around the side of the venue with a tout.
This trip was arguably much more successful, in so far as we actually went this time and didn’t have to leave through heat exhaustion. However, this time we very nearly didn’t make it at all because of my complete inability to a) take into account engineering works on the Underground; and to b) judge distances between stations. We arrived at our seats just after the Antipodeans took to the stage, hot and bothered and spent longer travelling there from Canary Wharf than they were actually on stage. But the girls loved it, and my wife and I are not at all ashamed to say we did too.
For the sheer hell of it, here’s a clip of The Wiggles performing with Leo Sayer, and I can assure readers that normal service will be resumed next week.
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