FOWC: Writhe

I’ve been to London, not to see the Queen but to see the Bangladesh play Pakistan at Lords (the home of cricket). My second team; Bangladesh, lost but the atmosphere was extraordinary; flags, tigers smoke bombs, music lots of music, but turned down in the members enclosure as they squirmed, and down in the public stands the bodies writhe to the pounding beats. A lone guitarist played on a home made cricket bat guitar, he wasn’t there for his musical prowess, it was because he had a bat made into a guitar and no one else had done it, a ridiculous mascot for a ridiculous sport which i love.

I’d like to say it was emotional London, but what it actually was, is hot, sweaty, expensive and full. Really full. Imagine walking through the brambles and trees of Shrawley woods in the summer, that’s how busy London was/ is. Noisy at night, no chance for me to concentrate; to write or writhe!

So off I head to Worcestershire via rail, after a £6.20 pint, what the hell is that all about?

Let me take you by the hair, and drag you through the streets of London, I’ll show you somewhere that’ll really break the bank.