Weeknotes #181: heatwaves and show tunes

Heat, theatre, football and friendship made another eventful London week.

Week commencing Monday, 6 July 2026

A Victorian cast-iron fingerpost in Shrewsbury's Quarry Park, signposted for St Julian Friars, the Swimming Centre, Children's Play Area and Town Centre, with the riverside boathouse and pavilion below and Shrewsbury's rooftops and a clock tower visible beyond the trees on a clear summer day.
Shrewsbury’s Quarry Park signpost basks in summer sunshine.

Quantified Self

  • This week: Stand 6/7; Exercise 5/7 and Move 6/7. (81%). Morning walks: 0/3. Office days: 2/5. Total steps: 53,841. 23 hours in meetings.

Life

  • The week started on Monday morning with a message: “Morning… See the news?” It meant this: Will I still be able to watch Love Island and Coronation Street for free?
  • In the evening, there were ten surprisingly filling courses inspired by dishes from around the world as part of Six by Nico’s Street Food tasting menu. Lovely.
  • London has spent the week behaving as though it has been moved several hundred miles south without anybody bothering to tell us. The temperature reached around 30°C, the capital was still under an amber heat-health alert, and this is apparently already the third heatwave of the year.
  • A visit from the police on Tuesday was to the wrong address, but it was still a bit alarming. Although there was nothing to worry about in reality, it’s disconcerting to look at a Metropolitan Police ID badge and wonder whether it’s real. Maybe I should have gone to the office three days this week instead of two.
  • Lovely dinner in Woking on Thursday to celebrate C’s birthday. It was all very nice, but the restaurant was quiet and lacked atmosphere. The staff were trying to stay busy, but I think there are only so many times the bottles behind the bar can be washed.
  • Saturday, to The Producers at the Garrick. Seeing the same production of a show seven or eight months after the first time is interesting. How much do I remember? Was this bit in the version I saw previously, or have they tweaked and changed it? The songs are very well known, but was there always a giant sausage on a fork in one scene?
  • Related, Alex Lodge, playing Leo Bloom, was fantastic, and I hope I am not just saying that because he’s one of the Crazy Coqs regular performers. He had all the right comic timing, and given that we’ve seen him before and know he doesn’t normally speak like that, the wonder of acting astounded me.
  • COMMENTATOR: It was a game of two halves — and then some extra time for good measure — as England were rocked by Schjelderup’s 36th-minute opener in Miami, hauled level in the dying seconds of the first half by Bellingham, then spent a tense and nervy second period unable to find the winner before the Real Madrid man pounced on a Nyland fumble in the 93rd minute to send Tuchel’s side into the World Cup semi-finals for the first time since 2018 — a place in the last four secured against a Norway side that lit up this tournament and can hold their heads high. (h/t: Claude.ai)
  • Remember, I said this last time about the AI commentator.
  • On departing London Euston aboard a Glasgow-bound train — albeit one from which I would alight well before Glasgow — I heard that the onboard shop had no hot drinks. Scotland would be a fair way for me to go without tea or coffee.
  • Some of the reviews for the “Sam-Ryder-looks-like-him” version of Jesus Christ Superstar seem to think it was better than I did, while others were more middling. I still recommend something else.

Media

  • It’s been too hot to sit in and watch TV. Really, go outside.

Weeknotes #180: pride and pop

Theatre, Pride, music and memories made an eventful, uplifting week.

Week commencing Monday, 29 June 2026

London erupts in colour for Pride 2026 celebrations

Quantified Self

  • This week: Stand 6/7; Exercise 5/7 and Move 4/7. (71%). Morning walks: 0/4. Office days: 1/5. Total steps: 55,794. 20.5 hours in meetings.

Life

  • For the avoidance of doubt, the World Cup banter bits are entirely written by Claude AI. I thought it would be amusing to get it to start match summaries with the cliché ‘it was a game of two halves’. The remainder of these weeknotes remains hand-carved, using a chisel and some stone.
  • With that in mind, here’s this week’s World Cup instalment: COMMENTATOR: It was a game of two halves — England were rocked by a DR Congo side who took the lead inside seven minutes and looked for long stretches as though they might pull off the upset of the tournament, before Kane, who else, dragged Tuchel’s men back level in the 75th minute and then rifled home the winner four minutes from time — both goals assisted by Gordon — to seal a 2–1 victory and a date with Mexico at the Azteca in the last 16. (ht: claude.ai)
  • Monday night theatre: Beetlejuice The Musical. It’s a funny show that breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience, with plenty of contemporary references and a Radio 2 tote bag. Having a demon offer the tote bag as a symbol of the underworld to middle-class theatregoers is a fun poke at the stalls; it stands out as both ridiculous and charming, much like the whole show.
  • I’ve posted five years’ worth of pictures on Blipfoto. It’s not a continuous streak. I celebrated five days late.
  • Relatedly, ChatGPT gave me a great title for a post, Amazon Prime Suspect.
  • My grandad would have been 122 years old on 1 July. What would the UK have been writing about in its weeknotes this week in the year he was born? The 1904 Summer Olympics?
  • There are moments during Pride that still make me stop and think. As a teenager growing up under Section 28, I could never have imagined that one day I’d be standing in central London, officially volunteering at one of the country’s biggest LGBTQ+ events.
  • In other Pride news, the UK’s gayest street had ‘worst Pride ever’, apparently.
  • Nile Rodgers wrote and produced for Duran Duran. The Scissor Sisters toured with Duran Duran. Today, we were all there for Duran Duran.

Media

  • We started the second series of Bergerac: a murder at a Jersey wedding. Who else would investigate?

Beetlejuice: It’s Showtime

Go back three times if you dare.

A theatre stage set photographed during a performance of Beetlejuice The Musical, lit in vivid pink, blue, and green stage lighting. At the centre of the stage hangs an illuminated red neon sign reading "Betelgeuse," styled like a vintage marquee, with a flashing chevron arrow beneath it pointing diagonally downward. A large blue rectangular frame structure surrounds the scene, with patterned dark curtains visible behind. Silhouettes of audience members' heads are visible in the foreground, with some holding up phones to photograph the stage.
The Betelgeuse sign lights up the stage in neon.

I’m not sure how we ended up seeing so much theatre recently, but tonight we went to see the West End transfer of Beetlejuice The Musical

Based on the film but not the same, the musical makes Beetlejuice the main onstage character, and Lydia (played by Hannah Nordberg) has a more developed story arc, mourning her dead mother, than happens in the film. 

Mainly, it’s a funny show that breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience, with plenty of contemporary references and a Radio 2 tote bag. This may seem odd, and I had to look it up. In London, this is used in place of the NPR equivalent in US productions. Having a demon offer the tote bag as a symbol of the underworld to middle-class theatregoers is a bit of fun poked at the stalls; it stands out as both ridiculous and charming. Very much like the whole production.

David Fynn (who we last saw in School of Rock) was excellent as Beetlejuice. He has a real stage-filling presence and has a much bigger role than the character does in the film, holding the whole plot together and breaking the fourth wall to talk to the audience. The staging changes frequently, perhaps too frequently, but is quite impressive. The music, however, is a little less memorable. Predictably, the easily remembered songs are those used in the film, originally by Harry Belafonte: Day-O (The Banana Boat Song) and Jump in the Line, which are what stick with you. 

I thought Creepy Old Guy in Act Two was clever as it pokes fun at the source film’s plot device of having a centuries-old demon trying to marry a teenager.  Dead Mom is delivered by some great vocals, and should be the emotional heart of the show, but writing this now, I only remember the song with the memory of the performance. Maybe I need to hear it again. 

Don’t let that put you off. This is a self-referential, self-aware musical with comic bits and songs, meant to be enjoyed in the moment. 

Go back three times if you dare. 

Weeknotes #179: heat, goals, locksmiths and delays

Heat, football, theatre and travel made it a memorable week.

Week commencing Monday, 22 June 2026

Quantified Self

  • This week: Stand 5/7; Exercise 2/7; and Move 5/7 (57%). Morning walks: 0/3. Office days: 0/4. Total steps: 41,266. 15.4 hours in meetings.

Life

  • It’s hot. We need a hydration break here. A rare red weather warning in the UK for extreme heat. National Rail advises only travel if absolutely necessary to red zones.
  • Isn’t it ironic? Extreme heat in London leads to cancellation of climate change event on adapting to extreme heat.
  • World Cup Banter: Tuesday night, it was a game of two halves, though if we’re honest, neither of them was much to write home about, as England stumbled to a goalless draw against a resolute Ghana side that left Boston with a thoroughly deserved point. (ht: claude.ai)
  • Related, Saturday’s World Cup Banter: It was a game of two halves — a frustrating first period in New Jersey where England huffed and puffed against a stubborn Panama side without breaking them down, before Bellingham swept home from a Saka corner on 62 minutes and Kane nodded in five minutes later to seal a 2–0 win, claim top spot in Group L, and set up a round-of-32 meeting with Senegal — with Kane’s header the icing on the cake, making him England’s record goalscorer at World Cups, surpassing Gary Lineker. (ht: claude.ai)
  • Wednesday, Jesus Christ Superstar with Sam Ryder and Jesse Tyler Ferguson didn’t work for me. It might work for you.
  • Another month, another locksmith. At least I had a fan for some cool air.
  • More train delays on Friday. Avanti West Coast kept emailing me about the cancelled trains, even after I’d arrived at my destination.
  • To Blists Hill Victorian Town for the first time since I was a teenager. Now under National Trust stewardship. There’s more than I remember.

Media

Back in time

Blists Hill baked beneath Victorian machinery.

A Victorian dentist's chair on display at Blists Hill Victorian Town museum, now under National Trust stewardship. The ornate black cast-iron chair is upholstered in worn burgundy velvet with padded armrests and a shaped headrest. Beside it stands a small circular dentist's tray on a decorative iron stand, holding instruments, including a labelled "Hypodermic Syringes" and a white enamel spittoon bowl. Behind the chair, a dark wooden cabinet and worktop are lined with rows of glass apothecary bottles, small white ceramic pots, and period dental products, including a box labelled "De Trey's Diatoric" and a tin of toothpaste.
Victorian dentistry on display — mercifully, appointments are no longer available.

After breakfast, we got in the car and drove to Blists Hill Victorian Town, which was a step back in time in more ways than one. Many years ago, when we first moved to Shropshire, the Ironbridge Gorge Museums were regularly on the list of places we would take visitors who came to see us in our new home. I am not sure if any of those visits were quite as sweltering as the sun we had today. We spent a great deal of our day pacing ourselves, darting from one pocket of shade to the next just to keep cool beneath the blazing sun. Did the sun bake down on the Victorians like this?

The sweltering weather made us look at the heavy machinery in a whole new light.  After looking into the bank, without converting anything to old money, fascinated by the capabilities of the antique cash register in the grocery shop, and thanking whoever that we didn’t have to endure Victorian dentistry, we stopped by the impressive Mine Winding Engine, but the massive mechanism was completely quiet. The demonstrators explained that it actually hasn’t worked for a few years now, though the team remains hopeful that they will be able to return it to full, steam-powered working order one day. Looking at the iron framing in the heat and the boiler room next door, I couldn’t help but think the staff were secretly relieved it wasn’t running today; stoking a furnace in this weather would have been absolutely punishing, although it was suggested there wasn’t really that much steam in the winding room itself. Such an important job the machine operator would have had that he would have been locked in during his shift, to stop distractions.

Amidst the shade-seeking, we also got a look at the town’s new era following the recent National Trust takeover. It was fascinating to read about how the independent Ironbridge Gorge Museum Trust recently handed the reins over to secure the site’s future. According to reports from Museums + Heritage Advisor, the transition was backed by a £9 million government grant to offset rising post-pandemic financial pressures. It feels like a monumental shift for British heritage, and being able to scan in with a National Trust membership certainly made the entry seamless, and so perhaps we’ll be back to the other museums in the group when they reopen under NT stewardship.

At the candle shop, not as pleasantly fragrant as a modern one would be, nor as terrible smelling as this would have been in its day, we watched the fascinating process of hand-dipping two-wick candles. Learning how those double wicks were engineered to survive damp, draughty mine shafts and prevent the tallow from drowning out the flame was brilliant. Who knew you could wave a candle in a draught and it would stay alight?

We didn’t get to do the whole site; it was too warm, and there was too much walking. But NT membership allows us to come back. We ended our day sitting in the shade in the café, with lunch, an ice cream, and tea.

Heatwave lock-in

Heat, locks, pasta, wine confusion.

An AI-generated cartoon-style illustration split between a sweltering London street scene and a stuffy living room interior. Outside, a white locksmith's van is parked on a sunny suburban street beneath a railway bridge bearing an Underground roundel sign reading "Mind the Gap"; a melting ice lolly lies on the doorstep beside a locksmith's holdall and tools. Indoors, a sweaty man in a yellow "Too Hot To Function" t-shirt sits in an armchair fanning himself with a hand fan, holding an iced drink, and daydreaming of a tropical beach holiday. Around him are a electric fan, a Union Jack mug, a thermometer reading 33.7°C, suncream, a bowl of ice, and a copy of the Metro newspaper with the headline "Heatwave!". A Wimbledon poster hangs on the wall.
Locked in, sweating, and dreaming of anywhere but here, obviously and AI-generated image.

If you were to believe the “news” media, then you’d be cooler sipping cocktails under a parasol, dipping your toes in the sun’s molten lava, or whatever the sun is made of, rather than staying in suburban London.

Yesterday, I was laughing about some version of this with colleagues, opining reassuringly, to myself, maybe not them, that of course I’m brave enough to get up before the sun is blazing and take the two air-conditioned trains to a place near my office. From there, I can skip most of the outdoors by walking through the shopping centre, where the lack of natural light means it could be any time between January and the end of days; you can only know for sure by observing what people are actually wearing and checking for seasonal decorations. And then, of course, I can spend my day in an 80% empty office that’s 100% chilly, since the temperature will not have been set correctly.

And yet, here I am, in a 32°C room with a mildly cooling fan, and I am quite happy about it.

Last night, returning from the theatre, we had a bit of difficulty getting the keys in the lock, and this morning, as I was thinking about leaving for the office, I tried my key in the lock, and it was going nowhere.

I decided to stay home and call the insurance company again. I was informed that my last call-out to fix the lock was just over 30 days ago, but I was basically trapped in the house because I couldn’t lock up. A locksmith was dispatched.

The initial diagnosis involved a can of WD-40 and a bit of what might, professionally, be called wiggling. But the cylinder remained a bit stiff, and eventually a new lock and keys were retrieved from the van and installed. Twenty minutes, five new keys, and I was once again free to come and go as I needed.

So, in the evening, while PY was at a work summer party, I walked out into the balmy evening heat, locked the door, noticed the sun beneath the bridge at Raynes Park station, bought some pasta and re-entered my own house without issue.

No issues with the locks, but when the pasta was cooked, I reached for a little drizzle of olive oil and instead grabbed a nearby, part-drunk bottle of red wine and started pouring it onto my dinner. I managed to drain it, but it wasn’t quite the same.

Jesus Christ Superstar: A Game of Two Halves

Palladium Superstar feels flat, despite later flashes of second-act brilliance.

Cast members of Jesus Christ Superstar take their bows on stage at the London Palladium. Photographed from above, the ensemble includes Sam Ryer in the role of Jesus wearing a crown of thorns and a blood-streaked costume, Jesse Tyler Ferguson in an ornate gold military-style jacket representing Herod, a woman in an orange robe, and several other cast members in period and contemporary costumes, all lined up across the stage.
The cast of Jesus Christ Superstar takes their bow.

It’s World Cup season, and if you heard somebody say it’s a game of two halves, you’d immediately assume they were talking about one of the matches on television, not the latest production of a West End musical.

The current production of Jesus Christ Superstar at the London Palladium is directed by Tim Sheader, who spearheaded the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre production of this musical. In fact, the official website says, “The award-winning Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre production of Jesus Christ Superstar comes to the West End.” This has left me entirely bamboozled, because I saw that version in the park and was blown away, so much so that we went back to a concert version of it in 2020, when everybody, including actors, had to be socially distanced. Remember those days? This evening, I left the Palladium definitely not feeling that I had been blown away by what I had seen.

The current run is certainly marketed on the star performers playing the roles of Jesus and Herod. Pop-rock and Eurovision star Sam Ryder is Jesus, while the role of Herod is played by a revolving door of big names who drive the price of seats up. Tonight, it was Modern Family star Jesse Tyler Ferguson who was playing Herod. PY and I were a bit confused because, when we originally looked at ticket prices for his performances, they were through the roof, and we thought we had booked for one of the less well-known celebrities. Perhaps it’s best we don’t name them. Anyway, it turns out that wasn’t the case. I mention that because it should have added a bit of extra magic to our night. But…

I really don’t know how to describe how I felt about Act One, except that I walked into the interval bar, and when PY asked how I felt, I said it was as flat as a pancake, fully expecting one of our theatre disagreements. Yet we were both of the same opinion. Jesus Christ Superstar opens with much more of a bang, and this was a whimper. For many of the early scenes, Sam Ryder is wandering the stage, looking a bit lost, as if he stumbled into the Palladium by accident. And I really felt the whole of the first act didn’t use his voice to its full extent.

The rotating casting of Herod is, to me, a bit of a gimmick designed to drive up prices. Still, I can see how interesting it is to observe the role played by different people who may attract different audiences to the theatre. So, credit for trying to bring in more diverse audiences. But there’s a second gimmick, and I really don’t understand the point of this one.

In the Regent’s Park production, scaffolding was used as part of the backdrop and scenery and also served as a location for the orchestra. It provided a kind of urban realism and a rock-stadium aesthetic to a quite intense production. It’s been extended at the Palladium to allow for the sale of audience tickets on the stage. Tonight, I felt that this caused two problems.

The first is that, quite frankly, the people on stage are quite distracting. They’re standing, looking at the players, and many of them burst into grins as soon as an actor approaches them. Additionally, the gritty realism provided by the staging and enhanced by the lighting is ruined when an audience member wears bright clothing. A woman in my eyeline was wearing a long, flowing white skirt: a lovely summer outfit for our current weather, but not really in keeping with the atmosphere they’re trying to set. I learned later that on-stage audience members are asked to wear black. Perhaps they should enforce the rule, but I guess that’s pretty hard if you’re raking in the extra cash from the tickets.

The other issue I have with accommodating audience members on stage is that the performance area needs to extend into the auditorium. For this show, it’s more than I’ve ever seen at the Palladium. And that meant a huge swathe of the audience on the upper levels missed fairly extensive parts of the action. PY reckoned he’d lost sight of a third of the action. These tickets were not sold as restricted-view tickets, and many people missed the action for much of the evening.

Now, to me, Act Two was a totally different production. It came alive, and energy surged. Sam Ryder’s voice was properly shown off. Jesse Tyler Ferguson, camping up Herod a little bit, blew a lot of the other performances off the stage, and he’s only there for one song. Can’t knock him for taking the money, especially as he gave a great performance. I’m not sure I’d say the second half came anywhere close to the performance I remember from Regent’s Park, but it definitely improved my overall feeling about the evening.

I still haven’t figured out what the messages with the cast performing with handheld microphones mean, but I’m sure there’s something in it. And I can’t figure out why it switches from what are obviously wireless microphones to ones with enormously long cables. I can see the point of using one of them to tie up Christ; it’s probably some message that I’m not quite getting, but I wish I’d caught that bit.

There are other notable performances. David Thaxton is fantastic as Pontius Pilate; his performance is tremendously conflicted, for example, when he’s not sure what to do with Jesus. And, to be clear, Sam Ryder’s performance of Gethsemane is an example of why he should be so right for the role.

But somehow, it didn’t work for me. Flat seems like a good one-word description. JCS should be more, and the Palladium has all the pieces; they didn’t fit together for me. I can’t put my finger on why this lands differently from Regent’s Park. It can’t be simply because they’re now doing it with a roof.

I wholeheartedly recommend seeing something new instead.

Weeknotes #178: Beer, bangers and Bellingham

Quiz success, Liverpool lights, England joy and festival-bound heat endurance.

Week commencing Monday, 15 June 2026

A large sun-drenched crowd faces the Sky-sponsored Isle of Wight Festival main stage during David Gray's afternoon performance. The central LED screen displays abstract warm-toned imagery, whilst the two flanking side screens show close-up footage of David Gray performing in a cream suit and holding an acoustic guitar. Festivalgoers in summer clothing, hats, and bare shoulders fill the foreground beneath a bright blue sky dotted with clouds.
David Gray basks in sunshine and festival adoration.

Quantified Self

  • This week: Stand 5/7; Exercise 5/7 and Move 7/7. (81%). Morning walks: 0/3. Office days: 1/4. Total steps: 82,034. 5.5 hours in meetings.

Life

  • At last: ninth in the pub quiz. Ben volunteered to step up to do the tie-breaker, where you need to name the song – but not the artist. There were two other teams. One of them was jumping with frustration, unable to bring the name to their lips, but Ben identified Don’t Stop Me Now without saying “Queen”, and now we have a voucher for a round of drinks when we are all together next.
  • Tuesday, to Liverpool for a work event. Albert Dock looked lovely lit up. Unfortunately, the hotel bar had closed by the time we returned. I’d already decided to call it a night when the others opted not to head out looking for a late-night drinking place. Given I’d had my first beer on the train just after 1 p.m., I’d been very watchful of my intake and was capable of sensible decisions.
  • Thursday’s World Cup Banter: it was a game of two halves; a chaotic, breathless first period in Dallas saw England twice lead through Kane, only to be pegged back by Baturina and then Musa right on the stroke of half-time, before Tuchel’s men came out after the break and were absolutely superb, with Bellingham restoring the lead and Rashford sealing a thoroughly deserved 4–2 victory to send England off to a flier in Group L. (ht: claude.ai)
  • Friday, the American Psychological Association says that “extreme heat can make people more depressed or irritable”. That was my experience on the Tube before getting the train down to Festival Island.

Isle of Wight Festival 2026

  • There was a big turnout on Friday for Ash. I didn’t think I was familiar with their work, but, surprisingly, I discovered Shining Light and Girl From Mars, which burst that theory.
  • Real Dead Ringer, a Meat Loaf tribute act, delivered another energetic set of all the biggest hits in a sweltering ElectroLove tent.
  • Saturday began with two renditions of No Scotland, No Party, one from Nathan Evans and the Saint PHNX Band and one from KT Tunstall, just before she introduced a surprise guest, Jack Savoretti.
  • 5ive delivered a highly choreographed fifty minutes of nostalgic ’90s pop hits. It might not be cool, but it was unexpectedly polished, and sometimes pop bangers are what you need.
  • Sunday, Suzanne Vega ended with Luka because she ran out of time for the song the crowd really wanted, Tom’s Diner. There was clear disappointment and confusion in the crowd as she left the stage.
  • Level 42 arrived on stage and commenced a forty-five-minute jazz, funk and pop set that was almost without a gap, and precisely to time. The Sun Goes Down (Living It Up) and Lessons in Love were highlights. They received local support, with the King brothers originally from the island. I’ll be looking to see when they’re next playing nearby because it was a joyous set.
  • And, of course, I wrote my Festival Diaries for days one, two and three. I think this was my favourite year at the festival.

Media

Festival diaries 2026, day three

A hot final day at the festival brought disappointment from Suzanne Vega, unexpected joy from Level 42, and new discoveries away from the main stage

This morning was almost a carbon copy of yesterday, although our seat on the open-top bus was considerably less breezy, and the choice we had for breakfast, “French toast”, was not as good as yesterday’s fare: no match for hash browns in flavour or portion. Corinne Atkins delivered another country-music morning, including some well-known songs and a Carrie Underwood cover that got me singing along, before we started the main-stage walk.

As with Wet Leg, Fugo Kid is a Platform One alumnus, and he was opening the main stage today. Wonderful to see more local talent on the main stage. I hope his hip-hop-infused music takes him places. There was definitely a group of supportive locals at the front, and it was nice to see a festival like this supporting local talent.

Next up, I’d expected Suzanne Vega to be one of my highlights. I love her music, and she was brilliant at the Royal Albert Hall last year. But, as with Alison Moyet last year, I think she packed her set with the wrong songs, in spite of opening with Marlene on the Wall. And then, in the end, she ended with Luka because she ran out of time for the song the crowd really wanted, Tom’s Diner. There was very obvious disappointment and confusion in the crowd as she left the stage. Obviously, I don’t know how they ended up in that position, but I would have hoped an artist of her stature and experience would have understood how to programme and time a festival set. I assume something that wasn’t obvious had gone wrong. Shame, but we did not let it get us down.

If that was the biggest disappointment of my 2026 festival, next up was, perhaps, the biggest surprise. Level 42 arrived on stage and commenced a forty-five-minute jazz, funk and pop set that was almost without a gap, and precisely to time. The Sun Goes Down (Living It Up) and Lessons in Love were highlights, and once again, they received local support, with the King brothers being originally islanders. I’ll be looking to see when they’re next playing nearby because it was a joyous set. What better way to spend an afternoon dancing, or trying to, in the sunshine?

Next, David Gray opened his set with Babylon, which caught the crowd’s interest from the very start. He surprised us with a Depeche Mode cover, Just Can’t Get Enough, before Sail Away. A solid, chilled set that was well appreciated in the blazing Sunday sun at Seaclose Park, but didn’t allow us to continue our Level 42-inspired grooving. Perhaps we needed to relax a bit as it was turning into a blazing hot afternoon.

By now, we were cooking and sought shade down by the River Stage, where, after a refreshing half-hour sitting down with a cold 7-Up, we watched Fever Dream Kills. Up front, a singer named Stars Walker was all tough vibes during the tunes and a softie when telling us the stories. Apparently, it was only the band’s 10th-ever gig, and the genuine excitement emanating from the stage was a bit infectious. Their cover of Spice Up Your Life is definitely another highlight, but shouldn’t overshadow their own powerful original compositions. Another new band found to follow.

That, to me, is perhaps one of the most important points of the festival. While all the headliners we’ve seen over the years have been good, the magic is in the other acts — some I’ve heard of, some I haven’t. We keep telling ourselves that one year, we will intentionally skip most of the main stage and spend time with all the other talent across the site. Maybe next year?

Next, to the Big Top. At the point we arrived, empty and technically in the shade, the heat was building. We were there for Rose Gray, another new British artist, part house music, part indie vibes. When it started, I was expecting more performance art than pure pop songstress. A story with a clothes rack full of outfits looked like it was about to unfold; there was a costume and shoe change, but then the idea fizzled out. That bit was bizarre. She is developing a following, many of whom were at the front singing along. I think it was a shame there weren’t more people to see it. Club To Your Arms is another track I discovered at my festival, but by the time it finished, I was glad to be out of the heat under the Big Top, where there was no breeze, and into the glare of the late-afternoon sun, where there was some air movement.

We were back at the country music venue for the Charnwood Country Collective, who did a set of country tunes that got a lot of us singing along, and again, a big turnout for the line dancers. We found a table and had dinner from Oink BBQ and allowed ourselves to relax for a while before the pilgrimage back to the main stage for The Cure, who were the last-night headliners.

We found a decent spot where we could see the band, hear the music and have a little bit of space away from the front. There seemed to be fewer people than had been around for Friday’s closing. It seems a number of people had headed out after The Kooks had finished their set. We hung around for about an hour, with Pictures of You being the only song vaguely recognised. The Cure were more my brother’s type of band when we were younger, and he is off to see them in Dublin shortly. It didn’t quite have the energy I wanted at that point in the evening, but I am glad I got to see a bit.

As we headed out, we stopped off at Hipshaker Lounge, where a Guilty Pleasures-style disco was just getting underway, and that was much more of an upbeat way to end our festival. As with every time we’ve been here, the bus back to Ryde is easy to get and runs frequently, even late at night.

I think this was my favourite year at the festival. Early-bird tickets for 2027 go on sale next week, and we’re already considering purchasing them. There’s something about music, familiar or not, even music I wouldn’t normally listen to, that’s captivating live. I wish I could do more of it.

Festival diaries 2026, day two

A breezy second day at Seaclose Park brought Scottish singalongs, polished pop nostalgia, a country detour, and the sensible decision to watch Calvin Harris from Ryde with a sandwich.

We were rested, just about, by the time we were on board the open-top shuttle bus that whisked us to Seaclose Park for day two. The breeze was quite extreme, but I quite liked it. PY less so. My festival hat was tied under my chin to make sure I arrived at the field with it still in my possession. We were much earlier today, and the bus was not even half full. Our original intention had been to see a Frank Sinatra tribute. We ended up stopping off at The Last Chance Saloon, where there were picnic tables in the morning sun, with Andrew Jones performing a mix of his own music and country classics. When coupled with the excellent coffee we found and the hash browns with maple syrup and bacon bits for breakfast, it was the perfect way to start the day: relaxed, comfortable, and with a great soundtrack. I almost didn’t want the walk to the main stage.

But to the main stage we did go, and I am very glad we did. When there was a quick snippet of Wellerman, I immediately knew who we were watching: Nathan Evans and the Saint PHNX Band. The mix of traditional Scottish folk music and modern rock and pop was a fantastic way to start the day, with the crowd jumping along. It seems important that the early main-stage acts start to pull people forward, and this performance did so. And it wouldn’t be the only time throughout the day that No Scotland No Party was sung out by a Scottish performer to a small but loud group of Scots.

In fact, next up was KT Tunstall, who did her own shout with No Scotland No Party just before she introduced a surprise guest, Jack Savoretti, with whom she performed Tempting Fate. I think the crowd was surprised and excited to see a guest. It says a lot about modern news that, within a few minutes of them finishing the song, there was already a headline: “Surprise as special guest joins KT Tunstall on stage at Isle of Wight Festival.” I really enjoyed Look at Me Now, which she wrote, but it didn’t make the cut for The Devil Wears Prada 2. It was a rock-inspired act to keep the crowd bouncing.

Next, an artist who achieved multi-platinum international superstardom in the 2000s and is one of only a few performers who can go by a single name, and everybody knows who they are: Anastacia. On the way to the hits I remember (I was holding out for Left Outside Alone, and I was not disappointed), we got a cover of Guns N’ Roses’ Sweet Child o’ Mine, which was definitely a crowd-pleaser. If I’d heard it before, I’d forgotten 2001’s Paid My Dues, but I just added it to my playlist. It seems an appropriate song for a performer who has survived the music industry for as long as Anastacia has.

We stayed with the main stage, although PY ran off to find me a beer between sets, for boy band Five, or should I write 5ive? Formed in the late 90s, they were down to four in 2001 when Sean left. When he came back after The Big Reunion TV show, J didn’t. In 2014, Abz left, leaving three of them for about ten years. But another TV show, Boybands Forever (reminder to self: watch this), reunited them, and they’re now on a world tour. What’s best about this history is that by now they have worked out that a setlist full of hits works, and it was a highly choreographed fifty minutes of nostalgic 90s pop hits: Slam Dunk (Da Funk), If Ya Gettin’ Down, Keep On Movin’, We Will Rock You, Let’s Dance. It might not be cool, but it was unexpectedly polished, and sometimes pop bangers are what you need.

The nostalgia fest continued when Rick Astley arrived on the main stage. Although he opened with one of his own 80s pop hits, “Together Forever,” he played a less pop-hit-heavy set, which really showed that he has a great voice. He told a story before performing a cover of Roy Orbison’s Oh, Pretty Woman, in which he claims he was asked to sing for the movie Pretty Woman, but he turned it down, thinking nobody would go and see it. Obviously, a lot of us were waiting for Never Gonna Give You Up, which came at the end of the set, but I don’t think anybody was expecting the cover of RAYE’s Where Is My Husband!, which came early on and was superb. I like it when it’s full of surprises. The set was very varied, full of good songs and a smattering of Rick’s personality.

We started walking back to look for some food. But after Rick, the changeover showed the worst of the Isle of Wight Festival, as getting away from the main stage is a crush of crowds shuffling for twenty minutes. By the time we reached the food stalls, the queues were enormous. We had the option to watch Rita Ora from the back of the field or get food. We took the first option for the opening few numbers, but quite quickly headed to a quieter area for a Greek gyro, a sit-down and some decisions to make about what would be next. From the back, Rita, not sure she can go by one name alone, sounded slick and polished.

Calvin Harris was the day’s headliner, but although I imagine it would be a crowd-pleasing set of huge hits, it would predominantly be a DJ set, and I am lacking the stamina to be in a dance music mosh pit. So we decided to head in the opposite direction and returned to The Last Chance Saloon, via Berlingo Flick’s folk set in The Intoxicated Tearooms. In the country venue, Chasing Twisters were performing a set of country hits, which was a perfect way to end the day, although I wasn’t tempted to join the line-dancing rows in front of the stage.

A little earlier than last night, back in Ryde, we allowed ourselves to stop off for a sandwich and catch some of Calvin Harris’ set on the television. All amazing hits and an impressive light show before an enormous crowd. Maybe we were the only ones who headed out. But he was just pressing ‘play’, wasn’t he?

Festival diaries 2026, day one

The first proper day of a festival is always a mixture of excitement and logistics. Will there be a queue?

While Thursday night might officially be the festival kick-off for those on the campsites, for us, Friday afternoon is the starting point. This year, it seemed a little later than previously, and we had a goal of catching 90s Northern Irish rockers, Ash, on the main stage just after 4 p.m.

We’ve always been very lucky with the shuttle bus to the festival site, rarely having to wait long in either direction. This afternoon, just after 3 p.m., the queue was snaking across the bus station, and we definitely wouldn’t make the first bus, so we got two of the handful of remaining seats on the next one. With the sunshine, I was glad I had a hat. There was a queue of traffic on the climb out of Wootton Bridge, which I feared would mean a crawl to the festival entrance, but we pretty much reached the speed you’d expect for a slightly old, borrowed-from-the-mainland bus full of festival-goers and a surprising amount of luggage.

Once again, I was impressed by the organisation on the way in: a quick bag search, a wristband connected, and the twenty-minute walk from the entrance to the main stage began. As always, the flags were fluttering, welcoming us. Almost immediately, we noticed a new venue, The Last Chance Saloon, opposite the Electro Love tent. Country and folk music are definitely growing in popularity.

First stop: a tap to top up empty water bottles; second stop: a photo with the festival sign; third stop: the bar for a pint, making sure we used the PayPal debit card to secure the 20% off food and drink. Over the weekend, I imagine the savings will add up. There was a big turnout for Ash. I didn’t think I was familiar with their work, but, surprisingly, I discovered Shining Light and Girl From Mars, which burst that theory. Also, a cover of Jump in the Line seems to be one of their live performance standards and was perfect for getting the crowd singing along. It’s a strange cover and seemed a little out of context initially, but by the end, I was singing along with everybody else.

We stayed around for Alessi Rose, a Derby-born English pop songstress who seems to be on the up-and-coming list. It was a great pop set, and I thought she balanced the idea that a lot of the crowd wouldn’t know who she was very well. She’s got a lot of youthful energy and managed to build a connection with the crowd. First Original Thought is already on my playlist.

The trek back to Electro Love is long, but sometimes necessary. A couple of years ago, we caught ‘Real Dead Ringer’, a Meat Loaf tribute act, and they were fantastic, so we were determined not to miss them this year. It was a very energetic performance, which must have been hard work in the tent. Another set of all the biggest hits, including Dead Ringer, Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad, Dead Ringer for Love, and I’d Do Anything for Love, was over too quickly, although it was nice to escape the heat of the tent and wander back to the main stage.

Before the walk, a pit stop for dinner from a Mexican food truck. The caramelised aubergine burrito I had was flavour-packed and delicious. I am just glad I picked up a fork, because it would have been impossible to eat otherwise. My festival seat, really a mushroom-shaped stool, has been a real bonus, allowing me to rest and keep my feet from hurting too much. And I don’t need to try to sit on the floor.

Wet Leg were already on stage by the time we’d walked back. They are considered a local band, as some band members have lived on the island and are products of the local Platform One College of Music. I knew none of the songs until Chaise Longue was performed. We managed to get a decent position about halfway back in the standing area, but they used a lot of stage smoke, so I ended up watching the screens just to see the band. Obviously, there was a lot of support from the crowd, which created a great atmosphere.

As that was finishing, we made an exit to the ‘This Feeling’ tent to see Finn Forster, another up-and-coming British performer. The set was really good. He’s a confident performer, and it was well worth the little detour to a stage we don’t often visit.

Then it was the Friday headliner and BRIT Award winner, Lewis Capaldi. There was quite a crowd, and we watched from quite a way back in a little bit of space we’d carved out near the bar. The crowd was definitely up for a show, and by his own admission, there were a lot of ballads, but nobody was bothered. After about half an hour, though, we decided that it would look even better on Sky Arts later and opted for the bus.

Weeknotes #177: beers, sales and barbecue

Quiet week grows into theatre, reflection, memorial, barbecue, and lunch.

Week commencing Monday, 8 June 2026

A riverside promenade along the Thames at Battersea Power Station, viewed on a partly cloudy summer's day. In the foreground, silvery-white dusty miller plants grow in raised planters beside a stone balustrade. A yellow banner on a lamppost and colourful bunting in red, orange and yellow hang along the walkway, where a few pedestrians stroll. Across the river, the Vauxhall skyline is visible, with modern high-rise residential towers rising against a blue sky scattered with white clouds.
Silver plants frame a sun-dappled Thames, Vauxhall beyond.

Quantified Self

  • This week: Stand 6/7; Exercise 2/7 and Move 4/7. (%). Morning walks: 0/4. Office days: 1/5. Total steps: 42,088. 13 hours in meetings.

Life

  • A quiet start to my week. My diary for Monday and Tuesday features a coffee pot and a plastic bag.
  • But I got out on Wednesday night to meet an ex-boss of mine. We chatted a lot about the product management space at the moment and the relentless pressure to use AI in everything, even if we’re not clear what it will do. There was broad agreement that, in some cases, AI has become a priority for companies, and product teams are being asked to demonstrate usage because leadership wants evidence that the business is becoming more efficient, innovative, and “AI-ready”, even before everyone is clear on where the real value lies. Interesting to get a consensus. A bit deep, but the beer was good.
  • Thursday, to The Old Vic for Glengarry Glen Ross, about desperate Chicago real estate agents trying to survive a brutal sales contest, where the best leads are fought over, and morality is the first thing to go to make a commission. The talking point is the gender switch, where characters written as men are played by women.
  • Related, I thought the gender switch was intriguing, but it mainly made me realise that anyone can be a ruthless salesperson when there’s money on the line.
  • On Friday, we were at a crematorium for a short memorial. It was very nicely done.
  • Saturday, a lovely barbecue in the garden. We got the BBQ out of the cupboard, which means it’s out now until the autumn.
  • The new Battersea Power Station had a wine festival, but we didn’t go for that; instead, we opted for a nice lunch by the river.

Weeknotes #176: lock, rock and rail

Theatre, music, museums and kindness outweighed boiler and train frustrations.

Week commencing Monday, 1 June 2026

Blackpool Tower illuminated in rainbow Pride colours against a deep blue night sky, photographed from street level looking upward. Strings of LED lights in red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet cascade down the tower's steel lattice structure. A warm streetlamp glows in the foreground, and the curved facade of a Victorian brick building is visible to the right, bearing a sign reading "Blackpool Promenade".
Blackpool Tower blazes in Pride colours under the Saturday night sky.

Quantified Self

  • This week: Stand 4/7; Exercise 4/7 and Move 4/7. (57%). Morning walks: 0/4. Office days: 1/5. Total steps: 62,668. 14.3 hours in meetings.

Life

  • Monday was definitely a day of two contrasting customer service standards.
  • First, British Gas was scheduled for the boiler service. I was up early to make sure I was ready for their text or call, which came just before noon. I emptied the cupboard around the boiler so they could get in to service it and watched their van arrive on the street. A few seconds later, I watched the van turn around in front of our house and drive off. It was followed by a text stating they couldn’t access the property. No follow-up call; nobody got out of the van.
  • Then, I called the insurance company about the jammed front door. They sent a locksmith, who took one look at the door, confirmed they had a replacement mechanism, got the required approvals, and, within twenty minutes, we had a new, fully functioning lock. And very friendly service.
  • I learned this week that news isn’t getting preserved in the Wayback Machine anymore because major media outlets are blocking it. This is bad for the future. Stop, and sign the petition.
  • We saw a ticket offer for Dark of the Moon at the Charing Cross Theatre on Wednesday — a new-ish musical based on a 1945 play, with a preposterous but interesting supernatural plot about a witch boy and a human girl whose love is undone by small-town intolerance, a theme that feels no less relevant today. The staging was clever, the score impressive given the pedigree of the songwriters, and Glenn Adamson as John the Witch Boy was the standout — all rock-god energy with real emotional range.
  • Related, I wrote up a full review on my blog.
  • Thursday, to the pub that’s opened up in place of Dear Grace. It’s called BloomsYard (without a space!). Fancy.
  • Friday was all about delayed trains on the way to Blackpool. I’ve written about that too.
  • Saturday, in Blackpool to see Beverley Knight’s Born to Perform tour. The show itself was two full sets with an interval, taking us on a journey through her career in soul and on to her musical theatre work. Every song had a story, which is just how I like to see artists, and she told them all beautifully. The whole room was on its feet by the end. A brilliant night.
  • Related, I wrote about the concert.
  • Sunday, to Showtown, a museum dedicated to Blackpool’s history as a holiday destination and a place to be entertained. It was a wonderful way to spend ninety minutes. On the way out, they asked us to write a review, so I did a longer one on my blog and a shorter version for review sites. I hope more people get to enjoy it.
  • Don’t ask about the train back. That was worse.

Media

Showtown: Blackpool History

A golden age of entertainment

A vintage promotional sign for the 1967 Blackpool Illuminations, running from 8th September to 29th October. The painted board features Blackpool Tower adorned with strings of coloured lights cascading downwards, set against a teal background with a searchlight beam. The text appears in green, white, and orange lettering. The sign is displayed at the Showtown Blackpool museum.
Vintage 1967 Blackpool Illuminations poster, on show at Showtown.

These days, Blackpool isn’t quite the same as it was during the golden age of seaside entertainment, when comedians, singers, and variety acts filled theatres all summer. At least, that’s my assumption. I wasn’t around for the so-called heyday.

Back then, I imagine, the promenade was full of laughter, music, and the smell of chips and vinegar, with neon lights promising fun everywhere you looked. Most of that world has faded as holidays changed and entertainment moved on, but the Showtown museum, which we found almost by accident today, does a great job of showing why Blackpool was once one of Britain’s top holiday spots.

The museum is just off the promenade, tucked away (almost) behind the Tower. I don’t think many people find it by chance, which is a pity. The exhibition celebrates Blackpool as a place built on entertainment, escape, magic, bright lights, performance, and the belief that everyone deserves to have fun.

I really enjoyed visiting and would recommend it to anyone.

After you pass the entrance and gift shop and head upstairs past the handy lockers, the museum tells Blackpool’s story with a good mix of objects, films, photos, and interactive displays. It’s easy to get around, well laid out, and really helps you see everything Blackpool has offered over the years. One of the first things I did was look through a beachside telescope to see old photos from Wakes Weeks, which were especially interesting. There were lots of black-and-white pictures of people on the beach, all dressed in their best clothes instead of swimsuits. Those photos showed a time when whole towns would head to the seaside together, looking for the fun that Blackpool was made for: factories closed, bags packed, trains full, and everyone was off for a week by the sea with friends and neighbours.

That history meant a lot to me because Blackpool was part of my childhood too. My grandparents spent many holidays there during the Wigan holiday weeks, so we often visited as kids. One of our family traditions was driving through the Illuminations with Dad, watching the lights go by from the back seat. I was always excited to spot the illuminated trams travelling along the Prom. Seeing that story in the museum, with many of the famous Illuminations designs on display, made the experience feel personal.

The Illuminations section was one of my favourite parts. It treated something that might seem like a cheesy seaside show with respect. Of course, it is a contrived spectacle, but when I was eight, it was an exciting one. Blackpool has always known how to put on a show, whether that’s lighting up the promenade, filling a (Strictly) ballroom, hosting variety acts, or giving people stories to share on the way home while eating fish and chips.

I also enjoyed the displays about dance. Blackpool’s links to ballroom dancing, social dancing, and nightclubs (sometimes that early-90s late-night student favourite, The Hitman and Her, was filmed here) give the town a history that’s both glamorous and down-to-earth. You can even stick your head through a slot and try all the dances without moving a muscle. It’s not just about TV shows; it’s about people dressing up, going out, and having fun, especially when this was their one week off from factory work.

Showtown isn’t a large museum, so it’s easy to visit in about an hour. It wasn’t crowded when we went, which made it simple to get around and try out the interactive displays. There’s plenty to think about, lots to make you smile, and many things to try, all helping you appreciate a town that has spent generations entertaining people.

Visiting left me feeling even more fond of Blackpool. For all its jokes, kiss-me-quick hats, and neon lights, Blackpool has brought a lot of happiness to many people, including my family. Showtown shares that story with warmth and just the right amount of showmanship.

Beverley Knight: Storytelling Soul

Beverley Knight was Born To Perform

Beverley Knight performing on stage at a concert in Blackpool as part of her Born To Perform Tour. She stands centre stage wearing a black leather outfit with fishnet tights and heeled boots, holding a microphone. Behind her, a full band is visible, including keyboard, guitar, and drum players, beneath dramatic red stage lighting and a swagged curtain backdrop.
Beverley Knight owns the stage on her Born To Perform Tour.

I must have said it somewhere before: when I go to a gig, I like to hear the stories behind the songs or the recordings. It doesn’t matter if the setlist is simply a sequence of songs the artists thought would sound great, or if it’s a list where the songs become a story. Beverley Knight’s show at Blackpool Opera House tonight was very much the latter. I loved the energy of the evening, and judging by the audience, who were on their feet by the end, we weren’t alone.

The evening kicked off early. Around 5pm, we arrived at the Blackpool Opera House and were given a lanyard and a goodie bag. About thirty minutes later, a small group of us got to go into the theatre for the ‘soundcheck’—an extra experience you can add to your ticket. There were probably about forty of us. It wasn’t the actual soundcheck, but Beverley performed a couple of songs and answered questions from fans. People asked things like who she’d like to collaborate with, and someone even said hello who went to her school in Wolverhampton. It was great to hear some stripped-back songs and have a chat before we left for a drink and then came back for the main show.

The first half of the show was all about her journey in soul music. She opened with “Were You There” as a tribute to Sam Cooke, who has been a huge inspiration for her. That gave the start a real gospel vibe before she moved into her own story; singing in church, showing early talent in British soul, and going through the highs and lows of a long career. It was a great way to set the mood for the rest of the night.

Songs like “Flavour of the Old School,” “Made It Back,” and “Shoulda Woulda Coulda” tell the story of her early days. But BK’s career hasn’t always been a smooth ride. Some of her early records received a lot of praise from critics but didn’t get as much attention as they deserved. Later on, around the time of Affirmation, she found more success, but it also meant facing new pressures and making some compromises to reach a larger audience.

Every song shared a piece of her story, but the most personal moment came later in the first set. “No One Ever Loves in Vain” was especially moving. Knight sang it as a tribute to her friend Tyrone Jamison, who died from AIDS. That would be touching on any night, but on Saturday, 6 June, with Blackpool Pride happening nearby, it felt even more powerful. The song about memory, friendship, grief, and defiance really connected with the audience, who showed their support with cheers from all around the hall.

Of course, she performed some Prince covers. “Raspberry Beret” and “I Feel for You” made it clear how much Prince has influenced her and showed how she fits into the bigger soul and pop world. One of the highlights was hearing her talk about the songs, especially her memories of meeting and playing with Prince at his famous post-concert shows at Indigo O2.

It’s not common for a gig, but after the support act (the fantastic Gabriella Cilmi), the Born To Perform tour had two sets with a break in between. The second half focused on her theatre career, starting with “Memory” from Cats, which was a powerful way to kick things off. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a version so amazing and strong. After that, she performed songs from the shows that have shaped this part of her career: The Bodyguard with “Queen of the Night,” Sister Act with “Take Me to Heaven,” The Drifters Girl with “Harlem Child,” Memphis with “Love Will Stand,” and Sylvia with “March, Women, March.” It really showed how her voice has moved from soul music into musical theatre without losing any of its power. If the first half was about Beverley Knight, the soul artist, the second half was about Beverley Knight, the storyteller.

When she got to “I Am What I Am” and the final “fire” medley, the whole room felt like a party. The ending was full of energy and generosity, and the encore brought the night to a close with everyone back on their feet. “Soul Survivor” feels like the show’s message: a story of persistence, talent, and survival. After that, Gabriella Cilmi came back on stage to sing “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” with Knight.

It was the perfect way to end the night. After a show that took us through gospel, British soul, loss, pride, theatre, and celebration, everyone left feeling warm and hopeful. This journey through BK’s career was more than just a greatest-hits show; it told her life story through songs and stories, with a voice that can fill a room with joy. Netflix should make this into a music documentary; it’s such an uplifting story.


Beveley Knight, Born To Perform Tour tickets are still on sale for dates across the UK.