This weekend you bump into me at The Bloomsbury Art Festival. Not all weekend you understand, I just went on Sunday and had a wander round. A person can only appreciate so much art before it just starts to get annoying.
Especially when it takes the form of a load of paper birds hanging from a tree that people write their names on. Eh? I don't get it. But then I don't get wheelie cases so...you know...maybe I just don't get stuff.
Much better was this tree in Bunswick Square with armchairs, sofas, chairs and the like hanging from the branches. Very popular as you can see from the wonderous picture.
But the best thing was a tour of the old graveyard behind Mecklenburgh Square now called St. George's Gardens. Oliver Cromwell's grand daughter is buried there and the first ever body snatch recorded, was from a grave here in 1777. There's also a brilliant gravestone with a skull and crossbones carved in it. I want one like that when I'm dead. I'll try and get a picture of it with my new camera.
What's that you say? Have I got a new camera? Why, yes I have. None of thes pics are from it but the next lot should be.
He also told us that when Oliver Cromwell died he was buried in a lead coffin in Westminster Abbey. Three years later the Roundheads (snigger) were ousted by The Royalists and a King was put back on the throne. They had Cromwell's body dug up, they put it in the cellar of The Old Red Lion pub on High Holborn before taking it away and cutting its head off. Ha ha ha ha ha. Those crazy Royalists. Royal idiots I call 'em.
Anyway, I'm often to be found drinking in The Old Red Lion with my mate Denise and sometimes Yu.
I thought the beer tasted a bit funny.
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