I've been in London this afternoon for a little Easter treat, to see a play called Plague over England. It begins in 1953 when Sir John Geilgud was arrested for cottaging, and follows him and two other people through the aftermath, ending in 1975.

He was arrested by a "pretty policeman" in a bit of a set-up, just before he was about to open a new play, which he was not only directing but also starring in. He'd also recently been knighted, so the timing was bad and he was worried his career would be finished. Lots of the scenes involve him and his co-star, Dame Sybil Thorndike, who is very supportive, and also a theatre critic friend.

At the same time there's the story of a young man who was also in the public toilet at the time he was arrested, who tried to intervene, who ends up in a relationship with the policeman who made the arrest. His own father is a homophobic judge. There's also a faltering relationship between the Home Sercetary's Private Secretary and an American GI.

There's a lot of stuff going on: theatre, politics, religion, sex. It's a very literary play, which could come across as a bit of a history lesson but actually is really funny and really moving. There isn't really a happy ending as such, although by the end Geilgud has realised that his career survived the whole incident, and the audience know that he lived and worked for over twenty years after that. We also know that things got better for gay people in general. But it ends with him admitting that he loved someone once, but he got away, so it's a bittersweet ending. And actually not a truthful one as it turned out when he died that he'd had a partner for 45 years.

It's one of those plays that reinforces the idea that love is everything and anything else is just completely pointless. Which makes me sad and want a hug.

The cast were magnificent, although I'd never heard of most of them. Dame Sybil was played by the fabulous Celia Imrie who often does things with Victoria Wood but somehow has never become as famous as Julie Walters. Well she should be, she was completely perfect! She also played the owner of a gay bar, a one time chorus girl.

There are also men kissing! The posh boy and his policeman lover spend several scenes in their underwear, kissing as the rest of the cast act around them. It's fabulous to see men kissing on stage, not in some voyeuristic, erotic way, but just because you never do. This is my reality, and to see it on stage is fabulous!

Astonishingly the theatre was really empty. I'd booked seat in the circle because the stalls were too expensive, but when I got there they said the circle was closed and they'd moved me to the stall. Eight rows from the front. The stalls can only have been two-thirds full and the theatre was tiny! It's a scandal, the play has had fantastic reviews - quite rightly! - and it should have been packed, what a shame!

So, Easter.

Not my favourite holiday to be honest. I know it's four days off work but it's early in the year so the weather is unpredictable - this morning was hot enough to have the car roof down, this afternoon it rained! Plus the shops are shut on Sunday, and a bit today, so it's a strange kind of long weekend. Or maybe I just haven't worked out the right way of approaching it.

Today is traditionally all about food in our family: hot cross buns, and fish and chips. The hot cross buns are a bit tricky as no one makes them as well as my grandmother used to, but it's been 25 years since she died and perhaps I need to get over it! I'm also a bit of a fascist about them - despite the fact they've been in the shops since Christmas I won't eat them until today, and tomorrow the leftovers can be toasted, but that's it, no other days!

Before the rain started I did some gardening. The garden is a mess, and even more so now! The overgrown willows have gone, although they were tougher to get out than I imagined and I managed to break Mum's fork in the process. Please God don't let it be a family heirloom otherwise I'll have ruined Easter! I was hoping that I'd looked at the aftermath and know what to do, but I just look at it and think, "dear God what have I done!"

This evening I could have gone to see a man. An interesting man who sells books, but who also has four children and an ex-wife. He seems nice but although we made a date we both never really confirmed it - I've made too many small plans this weekend I rather liked the idea of being at home this evening.

So instead I'm rewatching the end of the last series of Dr Who, in preparation for tomorrow's special. It's still very thrilling to see Rose and The Dr. How disappointing then to hear that the annoying Donna will be back for the last episode at Christmas - how can that be? I thought she had her mind wiped and could never know what had happened? Please, no more Catherine Tate!

After Monday's Gandalf/Jean-Luc Picard theatrical extravaganza I was curious to explore their other work together: X-men. It's a comic book thing but so many people keep telling me that I ought to see it that I did just to shut them up.

And how was it? Well the plot was a bit thin and it was a bit short, but as these things go it wasn't bad, certainly far better than the Spiderman films. It's main charm was Hugh Jackman and more specifically his chest (see above). It's such a thing of beauty that as soon as I finished I ordered the sequel!

The car's back from the garage!

Service Receptionist: "The mechanic noticed that the fog light is missing."

Me: "It's not missing, there was never one fitted."

SR: "All cars should have a minimum of one rear fog light."

Me: "Well it didn't when you MOT'd it last year."

SR: "......"

Oh I could weep at the incompetence of it all!

I lay in bed wishing I didn't have to get up, wishing it wasn't raining, wishing it was Easter already, when I heard whistling. Not a milkman whistling a jolly tune, but someone blowing a whistle. More than one person blowing a whistle. So I looked out of the window and there are a group of people carrying a large wooden cross down the street - of course, it's the Easter Pilgrimage! Whistles and marching through the streets - sounds like Gay Pride! Strange how the religious types hate that, because they like their gays at home knitting not out on the streets rubbing their noses in it. Now they know how I feel about them.

This week has turned into a bit of an anticlimax after the theatrical excitement of Monday - turns out I need an almost daily dose of theatrical royalty to keep my spirits up! I tried to make do with various "married" men, but it wasn't the same...

Today the car has been in the garage for a service, but they forgot I was coming and although they found me a car they didn't have an oil filter so the car is having a night away. And I'm watching TV like a dull person - bring on Easter!

Waiting....

Last night Ema & I went to see Waiting for Godot. You must have heard of it even if you haven't seen it. It's one of those plays that frightens people and just encourages the idea that theatre is pretentious bollocks.

So why did I go? Well this version stars Sir Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart - that's right, Gandalf and Capt. Jean-Luc Picard on stage, together! Admittedly I hated Lord of the Rings and I'm not a Trekkie but even I knew this was a bit of an event!

Sir Ian McKellen has been on my wishlist for sometime but he's so busy being a film star that he doesn't take to the stage that often, and when he does he tends to do classics. So despite the fact the play isn't my kind of thing I could hardly miss the opportunity of seeing him an hour from home and for only £6!!

So how was it? Well the play is a nightmare! Nothing happens - it is quite literally two men waiting for Godot. Although a strange man and his slave pop up in either half, but they don't make it anymore exciting! Who knows what it all means - are they dead? Is it a dream? Who cares?!

Having said that Sir Ian and Patrick were fantastic! They seemed very relaxed together and completely at home with the nonsense play. Their performances were very physical, with dancing and physical comedy - apparently they were playing the characters as old music hall colleagues, which explains why at times they reminded me of Laurel & Hardy and Morecombe and Wise, and that's meant as a compliment. There was some great business with hats, falling, and even a song - although as it was about a dead dog it was hardly The Sound of Music....

So it was all going well until the strange man turned up, played by Simon Callow - it really was a total luvvie convention! Now I love Simon Callow, and saw him being rather fabulous in Equus last year, but his character was a nightmare - a big, loud man with an orange face - a cross between Brian Blessed and an Oompaloompa. Frankly it was a relief when he left the stage.

Anyway, we stayed for the second half and felt rather proud of ourselves for enduring it. Ian and Patrick were fab and I'd go and see them do something else in a second. But I will never, ever, never go and see another Samuel Becket play as long as I live, even if the cast included Morrissey, Rufus and Kylie!

I've had Thom from Wales to stay for the weekend, which has been lovely as having visitors isn't something I do vvery often. The house is hardly big enough, but more than that I like being on my own, but Thom is an easy house guest who made himself at home so it's been a delight!

Yesterday evening we went to Ely. I've had something of a revelation about the place recently. Last time I was there I found myself regretting that I hadn't looked for a house there when I left home all those years ago. Truthfully it never occurred to me, and although I love the life I have I can't help wondering if it would have been a little more fantastic if I'd there. And although I've no interest in moving now if I ever do Ely would be top of my list.

So we wandered around the town, round the shops, the cathedral, down by the river - it's all too marvellous for words! Once it was too dark to explore anymore we went to Pizza Express, which was reliably lovely, and had a good gossip.

This morning we were both up and about early so we went to the coast.



I only live about 45 minutes from the coast but very rarely go. In the summer the coast road becomes a car park, and who would want to put themselves through that?! And in winter, when the beach would be windswept and dramatic, it never occurs to me to go. But it was beautiful so I've resolved to go more often.

We went to Brancaster, which is beautiful. A long, empty beach, with just a few people walking dogs. We ended up walking for over an hour, and by the time we got back to where we started the car was starting to fill up with expensive cars belonging to weekenders, all who seemed to have two children and a black Labrador. We had a cup of tea and sat in the grass watching them, grateful that we'd got there before them.

I put the car roof down and we headed back to King's Lynn. We settled down in Cafe Nero with the paper and a cup of tea, sat in the window watching the people of Lynn, who unfortunately aren't the most glamorous or beautiful people. We wandered down to the river, and Lynn did it's best to be lovely, but I'd left my heart in Ely, or on the beach.

It was lovely to see you Thom! xxx