Not just out but away

So off John and I went to London on Monday and, as we'd
promised ourselves, we went out to the Troubadour in the
evening to the Salt poetry reading. Well, I'd never been to
the Troubadour before, and what an amazingly atmospheric
place it is: that lovely old exterior, and beyond the door a
candlelit bar (at least that's how I remember it) and then
down the stairs to the darkened basement where it seems
Dylan and Hendrix performed in the sixties - already
crammed, and we were lucky to get a seat. And then there
were the Salt poets, standing in turn under a spotlight like a
golden sun (see the slideshow below) and transporting us
with rhythm, with wisdom, with longing, with laughter,
and above all with magical fizzing words.