UK and Europe '24 Day 4 - Regent's Park and ABBA Voyage

What a day, and how nice to be able to say that in the best possible way, basking in the afterglow of seeing your childhood idols perform right in front of you. But more on that later.

We've covered a lot of territory in London so far, and haven't even done the "orient yourself with the hop on/hop off bus" yet. Today we needed to do something low key, and I know I've said that before, but today we managed to do that, while still exploring somewhere new. Regent's Park is a part of the cluster of interconnected Royal Gardens throughout London. They're all massive with plenty of parklands to enjoy, beautifully maintained, as you'd expect with the link to England's Monarchs.

We hopped on the Tube to Regent's Park on the Bakerloo line, no transfers today, and emerged at street level not far from the park's entrance. We bought a few things for breakfast on the way and decided to have ourselves a nice little snack in the park. The funny thing about maps in unfamiliar places is that you need to be careful not to get drawn in by overconfidence. We walked in the direction of what promised to be a boating lake, through a broad green field, dotted with trees. Not yet seeing promised lake, we decided to sit on a bench and have a munch in the park. A friendly stranger approached, presumably on his way to work. There was no offer of Buddhist blessing this time or deep philosophical conversation, merely a random question: if you were to describe yourself as a fruit, what would it be and why. Really? It's just gone 8am, mate. For record, Chris is an orange, zesty and sharp. He chose out of a desire to ward off a would-be scammer. I'm pomegranate; complex and filled with tiny little pieces. More-so because I was looking a pieces of pomegranate in my fruit salad cup. Our friendly interloper was Dragonfruit. Exotic, tropical and hard to find. Was he hitting on us? We just wanted to find the gardens! He left and carried on with his fruit salad dreaming, we finished eating and walked on, finding the way to Queen Mary's Garden.

The delicate scent of roses wafted in the air as passed through the large, black iron gates, gilded with gold. It all feels very royal and special. Mass plantings of roses by cultivar make for a dazzling display. I've never seen so many shades of pink and purple, and while there are plenty in bloom today, there are thousands of buds just waiting to pop in the next couple of weeks which will make this garden even more spectacular. 

There's a great sense of peace in this garden. A rock wall forms the backdrop for a water feature that runs into collection ponds. The zen-like sound of the water is enjoyed by humans and ducks, the winding pathways promising more botanical delight. We spotted a bottle brush we've got planted in our own garden amongst the lilies, irises and countless other plant species. There's an open air theatre in the park, its location given away by the occasional sound effect and live song as cast and crew did their tech run.

We seem be of an age where morning tea in the garden cafe is an event, so Chris chose Lemon Drizzle cake and I hd Lemon and Elderflower which was very pretty in its presentation and far too quickly consumed. Must refer back to that mindfulness book.

It was such a perfect day. Warm sunshine glowed and a gentle cool breeze caressed the faces of this orange and pomegranate. We decided to join in on English park life and relax in the sun on the lawn. A couple of ravens wandered close by. An unidentified bird dive-bombed Chris while he was reclined, eyes closed, on the lawn and a large group of early primary school kids dressed in high vis jackets had the time of their lives playing in the park.

Warmed to the bone, a little bit recharged, we decided to head back to Camberwell for a couple of hours rest before heading out this evening, for tonight, we see ABBA.

Sometimes in life there are these little loops that stay open. Sometimes we get to close them, other times they don't resolve and we move on anyway. Forty seven year ago, five year old me got wind that ABBA were coming to Sydney and naturally, I wanted to go. My big brother (DLR) offered to take me but alas, Mum said no. I could go and see them next time, when I was a bit older. But they never came back, and they stopped producing music five years later. That would explain the tears the first time I listened to ABBA's Voyage album. I was elated they had released new music after so long. Tonight, although my big brother (DLR) wasn't with me at the concert (ABBA is really his thing, so it was unlikely he was going to come to London for it with me) the train that delivered us to Puddling Mill Lane, where ABBA Arena is located, was the DLR train Spooky. Loop closed.

Arriving at the arena was pretty exciting, and a funny experience as I approached one of the attendants  for directions on where to head. "Tanzfläche?" she asked and saw my confused face. She tried again "dansgolv?" this time moving her arms about. I tentatively said "dance floor" and she laughed and started speaking English, thinking I was from somewhere in Europe. We established I was from Australia and that we needed to stay to the very end to make sure we saw something really special. Clearly she didn't know me, because there was no way I was going to leave that auditorium until the house lights were shining bright! In we went, checked our coats and had a bite to eat. ABBA Arena is like a colourful wonderland inside, coloured lights moving about on the ceiling and several spots, for those inclined, to snap a selfie in front of the ABBA Voyage placard. Silver to the naked eye, holographic in photos. It was time to go in.

A row of three scrims covers the stage and a few lights shine from behind. I wonder if they were Super Troupers? Projected onto the screens was an animated woodland. Snow falling, blanketing the ground. Ambient music played while the audience filed in. It would have been quite meditative under any other circumstance. Before long the lights dimmed, we clapped, hooted and hollered and the band started to play. That's one of the fun peculiarities of this "holographic" concert. The band is live. The ABBAtars sing along to a live band. Countless times I've heard Bjorn in interviews reiterating "it's all about the lights" when it comes to the magic that has been created. We were less like spectators at this concert than cocooned participants. Lights darted all around us, like we were inside a video game. Mirrors sank down from the ceiling at certain points, screens and projections were used at other times, and amongst it all were the ABBAtars. The holgoraphic representations are incomprehensible. They are so real, I started to wonder if the band were real (they are). The members of ABBA had spent five weeks wired up to motion capture equipment on a sound stage to capture their movements, from which their digital likenesses were created. The costumes were designed created for digitisation. 

The whole presentation is impeccable. We danced and sang along to our favourite songs and listened as Benny, Bjorn, Frida and Agnetha shared some stories between songs. The light show was out of this world. Light approached us from every angle and just when I though it couldn't get any better, the stage and the dance floor itself glittered as the band broke into Dancing Queen. I must have played that single hundreds of times. DLR gave it to me for my fifth birthday and I'm pretty sure Mum came close to hiding it several times as I played and replayed it again and again. If I lived in London, I'd be be back to see Voyage again pretty soon, but I don't so I'll need to wait until it comes to Australia. For now I'll be content with my stash of merch from tonight. 

And maintain my ABBA high until we get to Stockholm in a couple of weeks where the museum awaits. It's hard to bbelieve we've only got two more days in London, but we've got a two day London pass and intend to explore. I'm thinking we'll both need Swedish massages by the time we hit Sweden.