London, You Were a Blast



Thus concludes the London leg of the Vision: The Musical tour — and what a whirlwind it’s been. London always has a certain theatricality of its own, doesn’t it? A city that teeters between chaos and charm, where even a bus delay can feel Shakespearean if you squint hard enough.






I was staying in Woolwich, in a stunning apartment that overlooked the river — picture-perfect, with the kind of view that makes you sigh into your teacup and feel, for a moment, that life is a BBC period drama, or at the very least... an episode of "SPOOKS" showing how over the hill I am now... I am sure... but that series was so good! But being immunocompromised, the London Underground is always a rather perilous ordeal. So I wasn’t about to brave the Tube without an N99 mask firmly affixed. That said, even masked up, the grime and crowds take their toll — so to give my poor lungs and immune system a break, I opted for something far more poetic: the Thames Clippers.



And of course, buses... whilst my family directed and tracked me via ATAK, without which I wouldn't have been able to even do any of this...since I need so much help. I still had a fair few anxiety attacks though... not helped by Netflix releasing that documentary of the 7/7 bombings, leading up to the day of the 20th anniversary of that  tragic event, so I was fearful of a copycat attempt... 





The VIEW! and the boats that carried me around like a VIP!

If you want to know the best way to travel around London, I wouldn't blame you... forway cheaper than an Uber car, you can take an Uber boat, and see things like The Houses of Parliament, Tower Bridge, Shakesy-P's Globe theatre, and without being claustrophobic on the tube... 
Check it out! : https://www.thamesclippers.com/

You can even... if you were so inclined... I'm not... but you can have one for me... GET A BEVVY on the boat... Treat yourself! 







JUST LOOK AT THAT VIEW... 



Yes — I took the riverboats to get to rehearsals and performances. It was glorious. The spray, the skyline, the serenity of gliding along while others are packed like sardines underground. Add in the occasional scenic bus ride, and I must say I travelled in style. It made the whole experience feel like I was floating through the city, carried by currents rather than chaos.












(Lung check... check!) 



When I had a moment to myself, I ventured to nearby Charlton House, a free gem of a stately home with gardens that seem to hum with secrets. I had a gentle stroll, soaking in the symmetry of the hedges and the aged dignity of the architecture. I love stately homes. I like to pretend they’re mine — that I’ve just returned from an overseas adventure, Lara Croft-style, and this is my ancestral seat. Let me dream, darling.

The show schedule in London was blessedly gentle. There was time to rest, time to breathe, and that made all the difference. Doing an infusion away from home is always daunting — scary, even. Your whole nervous system goes on high alert. But I managed... ish.... although the brain fog was brutal...




 

Not without hiccups, though — the biggest being when I left my phone in a Pret. Yes, I did that. A real 21st-century crisis. I had to retrace my steps, call them from another phone, and hope someone kind hadn’t decided to liberate it. And this is where a bit of military tech — and some brotherly love — came in.

Since my dad passed away, I’ve been using his phone for ATAK and comms. It’s a tool used in military and search-and-rescue circles, not your average Life360 affair. And it’s his phone I still use, which adds a strangely grounding, bittersweet layer to it all — like he's still part of my everyday journey. This time around, it was my brother tracking my movements, helping me navigate the city, and guiding me when I got overwhelmed. Without that system, I’d be lost — figuratively and literally. I’m not all that independent, not yet. But I’m not alone either, and that’s what counts.





Speaking of which — I wasn’t actually alone in Woolwich at all. By sheer coincidence, one of my castmates lives there too, which meant I always had someone nearby. And I was sharing my beautiful riverside apartment with a lovely soul, so between those two women, I was beautifully cared for. Even so, I phoned my mum multiple times a day. Old habits die hard.

Now, let me wax lyrical about the performance space: The Hall of the Holy Apostles,.... we also rehearsed in Mount Street... a Jesuit centre. It had the most beautiful ceiling I’ve ever seen — ornate, echoing, reverent. A true gift for the senses and the spirit. The acoustics were divine, the kind that carries a single note straight to the heavens.






LOOK at this ceiling... Oh my word... 
Just being here was inspiring. 

I was given the role of Harmony Officer for this leg of the tour — a title I now wear with pride and a tiny flicker of musical mischief. I was entrusted with mapping out the harmonies, plotting each one into the songs based on everyone’s range and texture. It was a privilege. A puzzle, yes, but once it all clicked, we had it sounding tight. There’s something profoundly satisfying about that moment when everyone locks into place and the music suddenly lifts into something alive.
Performers tend to know thei rown voices well enough to know if something fits to sing... so it's super important to let people tell you what works and what doesn't...

As rehearsals deepened, so did our bond. You could feel the energy shifting — cast members becoming more than colleagues, slowly forming into an ensemble. And, just to prove how weirdly small the performance world is — one of the first ever Bernadettes was in our London audience… and she’d actually worked with me in Lapland years ago. Absolutely bonkers! This industry is a snow globe — shake it, and the same faces swirl back around. Though trust me... I haven't grown a head so large to think that I really could go back to doing this again,in this industry, for a "proper length" run... I have CVID and I know that.... but let me just be happy for a short while! haha



All the shows were sold out, by the way. That in itself is something to be deeply grateful for. Performing to packed houses, in that kind of space, with those kinds of people — it’s the sort of thing I’ll carry with me.

I’m also realising more and more how touring like this, particularly as someone with a chronic illness, requires a support system — a trusted inner circle. You simply cannot do it all alone. I need people I trust to tell me when I’m overdoing it. I need the space to listen to my body without guilt. And I need those anchors — my brother, my mother, my friends — to bring me back to centre. Touring has a way of distorting reality. Days blur. Meals are odd. Sleep is odd. Even the rhythm of time feels different. You need something — someone — to remind you who you are. And I had that.

The final challenge of the week? Packing for the Lourdes leg of the tour. We had to pack early so our cases could be loaded into the van — but my usual case was laughably too large, ie normal sized.... Cue a pilgrimage to Primark to buy a small 10kg cabin suitcase. Then came the real test: fitting my world into that tiny rolling box. I watched an obscene number of YouTube tutorials to master the sacred art of travel-packing — rolling, stuffing, folding. I think I could teach a masterclass now. I also had to buy via Amazon, a comically tiny rucksack to fit my infusion kit, and freshly washed costume into.. Ryanair has a new "1 bag or else" policy, and no... medications bags are NOT exempt. I know damn well that society hates anyone who relies on any sort of medication... but this is on another level that just has me feeling like a second class citizen, who has to buck up, and deal... yet at the same time... being housebound is a moral failing.. but let's make it bloody hard to travel... then shame us for it...? I literally just want to pray for a cure.... as usual.. so that i can be the same worth as everyone without CVID. Which is a bonkers mindset considering it's an invisible illness.... 

Food-wise, I continued living off of TooGoodToGo boxes — a lifesaver, especially when you’re mostly veggie. And while we’re talking practicalities, let’s not ignore the financial strain: public transport costs in London are outrageous. Even a tenner a day isn’t unusual, and when you add up the costs of accessibility (like the Clippers, bless them), it stings. Accessibility, as ever, comes at a premium.

But even with the stress, even with the phone fiasco, the infusions, the budgeting, the logistics — I’m so incredibly grateful. Grateful for the opportunity, for the people, for the songs and the space and the ceiling and the clippers and the harmonies. For the cast, for the audience, and for the adventure of it all.

Fiji water in the sauna... is this an aspirational lifestyle blog now? kidding... I still really like it though...



Once I got home... I went to my favourite place... the hotel... via car.... boujie... to go for a sauna... 
as a reward... and tbh I do need it for my lungs etc... 




LOL sponsor me plzzzz





Thank you, London. You were a challenge. You were a gift. But I am glad to be back in the forests in Wales again...



 I had to have an afternoon tea with Mama the first chance I got obviously... 


Honestly, tea at the bottom of the garden, it had to be done, after such a week... and to have another week the same... is daunting but exciting, but these slow, simple moments have become the ones I miss the most, or treasure the most lately... Possibly because I had a near miss with Father Time himself and that bloody bollocks chest infection, which I am sure killed people in the Victorian era... yes.. that exact combo... 
Anyways, it has been a while... there's nothing to update thus far where my scans are concerned... because here in the UK they take a month or 2 to even come back... so there was no point putting everything on hold for it...  I am quite sure that I would have been screamed at by SOMEONE though if they WERE that bad... Fingers crossed it's nothing... 


Anyways the next update I write better be more exciting! haha! And more Aesthetic!


See you Soon! 
Or should I say 

à bientôt! 



Clare Alexandra








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