Friday, 24 April 2009


There are some people that come into your life and change it forever. Magdalena was one of them. Turning out of Redcliffe Square after a fantastic lesson with Behsat Ahmet - Pilates teacher extraordinaire, famous for keeping the pins of London in shapely repair - there was Magdalena, best friend of the late Ned Sherin and one-time famous actress in Romania. I was living in Cadogan Square, lying around doing nothing special, when in walked Magdalena, who said, 'If you carry on like this, you will get to 50 and have done nothing except talking to your friends on the telephone.' The next week she brought a form for the Summer Workshop at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and said sign it. I did, met Lyall Watson and became engaged in life again. Now here she was in front of me. I suggested that we eat at the Troubadour in their small, magical, scruffy garden in Earls Court. Former haunt of Bob Dylan and Jacques Brel, it's charming, cheap and delicious, a perfect haven for the young art set. (David Gilmour once lived opposite, and now his son Matt plays a weekly set there.) Anyway, Magdalena was very happy with me and said at least I had listened to her.

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