The thought of flying through the night, losing seven hours in the process and still getting up and touring hard the next day would be inconceivable for us now. But 25 years ago (as I write in early 2026) that is exactly what we did.
…then [we] go off to tour Angkor Wat.
Cover whole complex in a great deal of detail.
Dig the Naga features.There’s nothing like tits and bums sculptures to up the visitor rate at a site like Angkor Wat – in the same way, such photos up the click rate on a web site like OgblogUp and up we went.Intrepid – that’s the word for climbing explorers like me. Iantrepid even.The site at twighlight.
Daisy struggled to get the difference between Angkor Wat the temple and the rest of the old City complex!
I don’t suppose Daisy’s new biker boy friends explained it to her either.
[We] go to souvenir shop and then on to market before we realised how tired we were.
As usual, Daisy (Janie) got some superb market photos
Back to hotel for a splendid meal of mixed delights and early night.
Now, 25 years on, it is time to complete the Ogblogging of this wonderful trip. This page is NOT a highlight. But the following pages, touring the wonders of Cambodia (not least the well-toured Angkor Wat and several other lesser visited places) most certainly are highlights.
4 February 2001 – left London 9 am – by 3:30 am London time the next day we were in Siem Reap! Event free journey – almost pleasant.
5th February 2001 – our guide Khouch drops us at Sofitel – we sleep a while – then we go off to tour.
Janie and I were running around like nuts working that week, ahead of our trip to Cambodia, Laos and Thailand.
Janie’s diary notes a brief visit to Auntie Francis in the St John & St Elizabeth Hospital a few days before she died. I think Janie made that visit solo, as I do not recall it.
My diary page for the relevant week is missing. I think I took it out of the Filofax on the funeral day with the relevant details scribbled on it and never returned the page to the diary. Very rare error from me, that.
But for sure I went to that funeral, as I recall it for three particular things that are ingrained in my meomory.
The first of those things was the rejigging that I had to do in order to attend. I had an important meeting scheduled with a difficult client, which I needed to reschedule quite late in the day in order to attend the funeral and visit the client. I got the logistics of that right, just about, and received sympathy and gratitude from the client at my obvious efforts to fit everything in, rather than the annoyance I half expected from them at the resulting need for a late in the day meeting.
The second of my memories relates to the minutes before…and just after…the start of the funeral. I got to Cheshunt with a good 20-30 minutes to spare. I mean, you don’t get to funerals late, do you?
But there were no signs of Mum, Dad, Michael and Pam as the funeral hour approached. The funeral started. Still no sign of them.
I was a little worried that something might have happened to them. Only a little worried, because I remembered mum telling me that they would be coming as a family pack, via Pam & Michael’s place.
About 10 minutes into the funeral, all four of them sneaked in at the back. Mum had a mixture of embarrassed face and angry face. There ought to be an emoji for such a face. Dad had flustered face. Michael and Pam looked…like Michael and Pam.
Pam and Michael, seemingly unbothered, August 1975
Precise timings isn’t really what Pam’s about.
The other thing I so clearly remember about that funeral is the “stock eulogy” that the Rabbi delivered in honour of Auntie Francis. After the standard facts list of dates (birth, marriage, my cousin Angela’s birth)…the Rabbi eulogised about the kind, gentle, warm-hearted mother that stock eulogies are all about.
I cannot have been the only person in the funeral hall who was thinking, “this doesn’t sound like Auntie Francis”, who was, bless her, a tough old bird, for whom the phrase, “on the lung, on the tongue” might have been written. She was one of only two or three people I ever met who induced fear in my mother.
At one point, Angela was struggling to keep a straight face during the eulogy, which made it even harder for me (and probably several others) to maintain our composure as well.
I resolved there and then to ensure that, in any situation where I had some influence over the funeral proceedings, that stock eulogies delivered by someone who didn’t know the deceased would be off the menu.
Writing 25 years later, I have only recently delivered what I think might be the most challenging eulogy I’ll ever have to make – eulogising Auntie Francis (who had endearing as well as challenging qualities) would be have been a doddle compared with the perils of Pauline:
On the Friday – 2 February, Janie and I had dinner with Kim & Micky at Monty’s Nepalese Restaurant in Ealing – thus spake Janie’s diary. My page is missing in action, remember?
Did the play still have what it takes, nearly 40 years on? Michael Billington certainly thought so. Janie wasn’t so sure – she’s never been convinced by Orton. I thought this one worked better than the revival of What the Butler Saw at the National, which I recall disappointed me, so I didn’t find it dated; but Tom Keatinge did.
But who cares – I’ve seen the play now and mum couldn’t stop me this time.
On the Friday evening, we saw Feelgood. We would have eaten at Harry Morgans before the show. I remember this play having a superb cast: Jeremy Swift, Henry Goodman, Amita Dhiri, Nigel Planer, Pearce Quigley, Sian Thomas, Nigel Cooke and Jonathan Cullen (according to my log), and being lots of fun. Max Stafford-Clark directed it. It transferred to the Garrick with a slightly different cast – Peter Capaldi taking Jeremy Swift’s place. Here’s the Theatricalia entry for that one.
Nicholas de Jongh really liked it in The Standard, especially heaping praise on Henry Goodman’s performance:
Billington concludes that article with a statement that seems oh so apposite as I write 25 years later:
…theatre is a place of information as well as entertainment and the more it cuts itself off from society – and relies on a mixture of anodyne musicals and Hollywood-star casting, the more it is doomed to glamorous irrelevance.
Apart from the quintessentially US nature of the production and the left field approach to tackling racism through performance, it’s hard to see much similarity between the evenings.
Rebecca Gilman’s play was memorable through its “warts ‘n’ all” approach to anti-racism and political correctness on campus. Also memorable was a superb performance by Emma Fielding in the lead role. The supporting cast were also “Royal Court good”, as was Dominic Cooke’s directing.
Our friends David and Rachel found it interesting and we had plenty to discuss over grub after the play.
Our other friend, Michael Billington, gave it a very good review in the Guardian:
The diary notes simply tell us that we went to The Ruts for this party.
Photography had only just recently been invented back then, so we didn’t take any pictures. Someone might have taken pictures. Someone might even supply me with one from that event in the fullness of time.
I do have a handful of pictures of a young Caroline (see headline picture) and I have seen photographs of Alan from way back when.
I remember lots of people. I remember terrific grub – much of that was no doubt down to Jackie (Caroline’s mum) – and I remember Janie and I having a good time at that party.
Unusually, this was an afternoon, not an evening concert. It had a very geeky name for a very beautiful concert.
Technically speaking – geeky people took great pains to point out when we all celebrated the new millennium on 31 December 1999 – as there had not been a year zero – the real millennium must be 31 December 2000. The fact that calendars had changed, days added and all sorts was put to one side for those who wanted to celebrate the new millennium on 31 December 2000.
Janie and I just wanted to see this lovely concert and we were not disappointed. We were very keen on Florilegium and Emma Kirkby and the programme was enticing:
Antonio Lucio Vivaldi – Flute Concerto “La Notte” in G minor Op 10 No 2
Johann Sebastian Bach – Susser Trost, mein Jesus kommt from Cantata BWV 151
Arcangelo Corelli – Trio Sonata in D major Op 1 No 12
Giovanni Battista Pergolesi – Salve Regina in C minor
George Frideric Handel – Sweet Bird from L’Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato
Henry Purcell – The Fatal Hour Comes On Apace
Henry Purcell – Music for a While
Henry Purcell – Suite from The Fairy Queen
Here is a nice vid of James Galway with the Ventian Soloisti under Claudio Scimoni playing La Notte:
Here’s Maria Keohane singing Susser Trost – very Christmassy it sounds to me:
Here is the start of the Pergolesi Salve Regina performed by Florilegium, with Robin Blaze, not with Emma Kirkby. I love this album, which I think I bought at that time – possibly that very night.
Here’s Emma Kirkby singing Sweet Bird, with the Academy for Ancient Music under Christopher Hogwood – then Music For A While.
Oh boy, can she sing.
I don’t think Florilegium and Emma Kirkby have ever recorded together, so you’ll just need to take our word for it that the combination for the real millennium was the real deal…
…yet it fails to register in my usual lookup places (Wikipedia, Theatricalia) on lists of Shelagh Stephenson’s work.
It looks as though Janie booked this one almost as an afterthought. Perhaps she thought we’d have no time before the Christmas madness and then felt ready and at a loose end just ahead of the Saturday. She’s written:
A9 & 10, £40.35 Joanna Pearce playing Bea.
Perhaps a client recommended it to her.
Let’s see what the critics said. Our friend, Michael Billington, liked it despite its flaws:
I must say the scenario looks like the sort of play we would actively avoid now, so my guess is that it is well writ and was very well acted by an excellent cast, not least Dermot Crowley & Joanne Pearce.
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