Ask Frank.

On Sunday at the Hobgoblin Alice said to me, "would you like to go to a £5 concert on Thursday night?" I said yes and asked who it was, to which she replied, "Frank Turner." "Eeeeeee," I squealed, all the while thinking, "Charlotte likes him, I'm sure I'll like him too." So, I asked Charlotte to send me some of her favourite songs, spent the week listening to them constantly (suffice to say I liked his music) and come Thursday we set off for Kingston via Waterloo. We went to Wetherspoons along the way and I bought some chips (and chips alone, mind you) for which I was asked to show some form of ID. At the Hippodrome Joe was able to blag his way in with the excuse 'I'm from the North', yet I couldn't buy a spot of light supper without revealing my driving license, the shame. Frank Turner appeared at tenish after a couple of apple VKs and a short warm-up act, so I squeezed my way onto the sideline in order to watch. He played some great songs and twanged his guitar in a most lovely fashion and whether or not I liked him before, I most certainly do now. In particular the crowd enjoyed a rousing rendition of, 'the singer out of Slipknot went to Rome to see the Pope', classic :) Afterwards, the others made sure they got extra drunk (while I stuck to my VKs and considered the early morning at college ahead) and Alice took particular care to fall over on a number of occassions, at one point bowling over a crowd of young groupies in an attempt to get closer to Frank. Finally, we left the Hippodrome and set off by night bus back to our own little side of London, where we finished up a brilliant night with cheese toasties, hot water bottles and eggy bread ♥