Cram it in.

Started this week a la street urchin cheekily peering over the fence at the Stones Hyde Park gig. Good enough view and the sound surged in all the right places - especially so when it came to the audience  picking up as a single unified voice that eerie whooping that heralds Sympathy with the Devil.

But why did someone in the mass of people listening on the the other side of the tracks as it were decide to play his mouth organ nearly every time there was a solo going on? Take it from me, you don't want to hear Jumping Jack Flash played on a mouth organ.

Then the week ends up with an unexpected long, glorious evening in a pop up restaurant in London's über hip nexus - Hoxton Square. A building due for the wrecker's ball been temporarily reclaimed for sanity and humanity by an enterprising husband and wife and turned into a delightful place to eat.

 It must be one of the oldest residents in the square even if the front looks like a sixties mini office block. The husband reckoned it had been there since the 1820's; the stripped back, pared down look of the internal building certainly attests to that. Just looking at the worn down steps on the staircases testifies to an unknown number of feet running up and down. So why demolish it?