Due to demands from the children, we took them to Harry Potter World in Watford in the outskirts of the capital. It was a long journey, and an expensive day. Very expensive.
We first took the train to the capital which passed a stop called Bicester Village, a shopping town. The town is announced in multiple languages on the train as it approaches, including Chinese and Arabic, to encourage as many shoppers to disembark and shop as possible.
On our way we passed through the capital, taking the littlies to this playground near our old pad. A posh neighbourhood, we once paid a substantial portion of our wage for a meagre piece of monkfish.
Watford Junction, now on the map.
Below is the fancy and expensive and not-included-in-already-exhorbitant-entry-fee Harry Potter World transit bus.
... and a normal bus.
Outside, some of the tourist hordes (of which we of course form part).
Our bus joined the ranks of many others.
Harry Potter World is actually called Warner Bros Studio Tour, but no one cares.
A new extension, to keep people coming back. Aluminium cladding over asbestos?
Inside the building, not yet inside the magic world. A Starbucks serves u p overpriced Starbucks fare and microwave McCains pizzas. It resembles a contemporary airport, a shit one.
Like the streets of Hackney, chicken bones abound.
A treat while we queue for the proper entry, the cupboard under the stairs.
The pleasing but very rushed first zone.
Hairy Potter.
Boneless chicken a la prop.
Green screen magic.
Behind the scenes
Queueing up for a bit of green screen magic, photos of which can be purchased later.
Randoms being photographed in Hagrid's Hut.
Lest we forget.
Just like real life.
Some phallic protuberances in the forbidden forest.
Disco Patronus
Tempted?
Even Harry Potter is depressed and depressing in middle age.
A rare moment of second guessing.
Possibly the most disappointing moment - five pounds for a small plastic cup of flat creaming soda with whipped cream on top.
Helps Cleese pay his alimony and tax bills.
I once met Mr Fiennes at a shop I once worked at. "Can I help you?" I asked. H turned, smiled warmly, and replied, "No thank you."
Fifteen pounds for a plastic mug with a Hogwarts sticker.
The capital's finger remains firmly on the pulse.
For dinner we had a meal of miniature vegetables, including carrots in the'Chef Style', and crisp sandwiches. A classy end to a classy day.
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