Some time ago, about April, our choir master told us some news about a possible gig. It’s a biggie, if you can do it, it will be worth it. Other than that he didn’t say much other than ‘save the date’.
A couple of weeks later, he mentioned it again, this time he was much more excited about it. “Guess what? We have been asked to sing at The BBC Proms in the Park in London. OH YEAH!!!!!”
Boofuls, Lashes and I all looked at each other disappointed. “Well, that’s that then. September, we’ll still be busy with the lodging emporium. Boofuls is due his new hip on 10th September, we won’t be going.” We sat and tried not to look churlish as groups of people excitedly made plans for coaches, overnight stays and weekend breaks.
There are times when I hate being a hotelier. All the good stuff happens in summer and we miss it all.
Every week for weeks and weeks all anyone talked about was the Proms and the big surprise. Pfffftttt. Still we smiled and listened to all the planning going on.
Summer flew by in a whirl of faces, sunshine, tons of bacon and eggs and quite a few screaming children.
Then. One day. A message popped up on the choir Facebook page. “I can’t go to the Proms now. If anyone would like my ticket and seat on the coach just pm me.” I looked at the diary and said to Boofuls,”Look Boofuls, we could have gone. It’s quiet next week, your operation has been cancelled till October, we could have done it.” Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.
“You go to the Proms. I know you really wanted to. You take the ticket.”
My mind raced. Torn between really wanting to go and leaving Boofuls, who also really wanted to go but wouldn’t have managed with his lack of mobility.
“No, Boofuls. I’m not going without you. No, it’s not right, we do everything together, No…no…no………………….oh ok then!”
AS much as I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t bothered, I really, really was. All our friends were going on the coach together. I got in touch with the organiser of the trip and asked if the seat on the coach and the ticket was still available. “Oh no! They’ve just gone!!!”
“Wait! Wait! One woman hasn’t decided if she’s going on the train or the coach. If she decides it’s the train, the seat is yours. You can go and buy a Prom ticket online. It all depends on what her hospital consultant says this morning.
We waited and fidgeted until eventually, I got a call back. “She’s going on the train!!!! The seat is yours!!!!”
I very nearly exploded with excitement. I’ve never done anything like this in my life before.
The day arrived.
We met at the coach station at 9.00a.m. Every time another one of the group turned up we all leapt to our feet and started to sing, “It doesn’t matter what you wear, just as long as you are there.”
We got a few funny looks from other waiting passengers but we really didn’t care. There was singing, dancing, lots of laughter and a fair amount of giddiness. Twenty four women, and one man, all singing, chattering and getting stupidly excited that there was a toilet on board. The coach driver informed us sombrely, “Now ladies, I know you are terribly excited that there is a toilet on board but let me tell you, when it’s full, it’s full.”
The journey to London passed in a blur while we sang our entire repertoire. Mae videos to send to our choir master and took selfies, so many selfies. I did feel for the driver. His ears must have been bleeding by the time we arrive at Hyde Park.
I’m going to let the photos tell the rest of the story: Enjoy.