LA Blue became "Cardiff Blue" on our return journey from the Welsh capital on Friday night.
We were there for a school trip, to view a performance of J.B. Priestley's "An Inspector Calls" in a genuine three dimensions, at the swish New Theatre. Prior to our arrival, a resilient wasp had caused much commotion on the coach, withstanding half a dozen smacks, courtesy of Jamie from Em's tutor group. We eventually approached the theatre on foot; I took this opportunity to scoff the meagre morsels that made up my dinner, my final bite coinciding with the start of the show.
I thoroughly enjoyed the performance; highlights included the dramatic collapse of the Birling house, which woke a few of my school mates up, and the additional symbolism which had been carefully woven into the play.
Back to the end. The chill air of a Cardiff night bustled us back on to the bus, which lacked any evidence of the demon in black and yellow stripes. Eagerly, I grappled for my iPod and set it to play a series of bright, carefree tunes. The sky may have been pitch black, and my cheeks coral red, but nothing could fully detract from the blue…
