They say its grim up North. Not half as grim it is around some parts of Hackney ….. I can tell ya!

We left the splendidly re-developed St Pancras Station and jumped in a taxi to Mare St (apt name) Upon arrival the taxi driver asked why on earth we were wanting to stay in Mare St. “Off to a gig” we said, and, “It was the closest hotel we could find”. “I hope you have guns on you”, he said laughing. Boy was it rough. My London correspondent today told me Mare St was also known as “murder mile”.

The hotel was by far the worst place I have ever stayed in but it was only somewhere to sleep….. and I can sleep anywhere. My mates sister wasn’t too pleased though and objected strongly to the fact that you got a free mouse trap in your room,…. I kid you not. She actually refused to pay for the room the following morning and a mighty row was had, she won.

However, less than half an hours walk away we were in the beautiful Victoria Park. Very nice, made me think of Mary Poppins,…… Lets go fly a kite…… its surrounded by lovely crescents of houses that apparently  run to £800,000 each, quite a contrast to Mare St.

The gig itself was mixed. That Paloma Faith bird was on and she was very good. Next up was Mark Ronson. Didn’t like him before, like him even less now, he was rubbish. Then a surprise, Duran Duran nipped on stage and did a couple of numbers. Now I was never a fan but I have to say they were very good.

And finally Roxy, who played a lot of their early 70’s album stuff to the delight of us oldies in the audience and the bewilderment of the young uns. They really were excellent. Myself and the boys did of course push our way to the front of the stage just before Roxy came on and for a while at least we were all 16 again.

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