So I made it to London today, on what is probably one of the busiest days in London EVER, at least for transportation. Not only is it a bank holiday and everyone is traveling, but there is also a Eurotunnel strike (I think it still happened), forcing more people to take the Eurostar, AND three of the main central London tube lines were down for maintenance. So London was a madhouse when I arrived.

But I did arrive and got to the theatre with a few moments to spare. I sat next to a kindly older English woman who I chatted with a bit (oh, English language, how I have missed you) and chatted up one of the ushers who could have passed for Matt Smith’s brother.

The theater was much smaller than I’d anticipated, and my seats were in the stalls in about the very center of the room. Pretty perfect viewing, although I don’t think there was a bad seat in the house.

The play was hysterical. Honestly, it was the funniest thing I’ve seen. And I loved seeing Ms. Tate steal scenes from Mr. Tennant effortlessly. Comedy is her forte. Not to say that Mr. Tennant wasn’t also a riot, especially when dressed in a denim miniskirt and lacey tights. And kudos to the entire cast for working with those two and managing to be just as brilliant.

And brilliant it was. As an actor myself, I find my eyes drawn to the back of the stage. I always love to watch what actors are doing when they’re not speaking lines: how they fill that time, etc. It’s just something I always do. I also look for the occasional dropped line and “oops” moment and can usually catch them when others can’t because I’ve experienced my share of them.

There was also a very close call for Catherine Tate with a wardrobe malfunction. Her girls very nearly came out while she was dangling above the stage (you would have to see it to believe it). But she made it part of the comedy. But she was so good at being spontaneous that it very well could have been scripted. However, once she came out of the harness that held her above the stage, she adjusted her breasts and it was just so funny that the audience burst into applause. Catherine broke character and pointed to her wrist and mouthed “no time” and gestured for us to cut it out. Then she ran her hand over her face to indicate she was going back into character. I could just hear my old English director screaming in my head not to do this, but at the same time, Shakespeare always sought to break the fourth wall – I mean, half of the dialogue is spoken to the audience, after all.

And it was just a nice moment to have had.

Tennant was awesome, as well, and had me laughing hysterically, too. And when he and Tate were together on stage, it was that same magic that made the Doctor and Donna so enjoyable to watch. They just have an amazing chemistry together and that cannot be denied.

After the play, I made my way to the stage door, but people who had not been to the show had already been waiting out there, so there was getting nowhere near it. Tennant and Tate both came out, but the people who got photos – most of them didn’t even have tickets to the show. Which sort of irked me, but oh, well. I do have his autograph hanging on my wall, but I just really wanted to shake their hands and just say thank you for the joy they’d given me not only tonight, but also through Doctor Who, during my darkest days. Oh, well, I suppose I’ll blog about it instead.

And besides, in typical fashion when I see David Tennant, it began to rain. And so I headed back to the train station. Which was crowded. Again. Miserably so.I managed to make my way back to St. Pancras and decided on an English dinner. So I had a steak and onion pie, along with a fairy cake (which is actually what they call a cupcake).

And I came back to my “home” in Paris. Where I discover John Barrowman has been hanging around. In a bar not too far from where I’m staying. Really? What are the odds? That’s what I call irony. But maybe if he’s in Paris for a few more days, I’ll bump into him. Since he seems to be announcing on Twitter where he’s at. I’ll be watching… just in case. Because it would be rather cool to meet Captain Jack, after all. Not to mention that guy that sang “Springtime for Hitler” in “The Producers.”

And with that, it is nearly 1 a.m. and I am going to bed. I’m probably sleeping in tomorrow, since I only have a few more places on my list of things I want to see and do. I believe I’ll be hanging around the Latin Quarter most of tomorrow, but we’ll see.

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