Figaro Singing In The Rain

Yesterday evening at the annual "Summer Big Screen" operatic event in Botanic Gardens, Belfast, was yet another washout. It was still dry when I left home; however, shortly after my arrival and just after I'd set up camp in a strategic position, it began to rain steadily for the next two and a half hours.

Imagine the scenario: seated on a picnic chair clutching a cumbersome umbrella, endeavouring to balance a glass of wine in one hand whilst grasping a sandwich in another. I eventually donned the Peter Storm gear and I stayed largely dry; only my shoes were damp. It was cold though.

My picnic was good. I'd bought a round of Tesco Finest salmon and cream cheese sandwiches, and a round of Finest ham & chutney; finished off with a raspberry panna cotta pudding. A mini bottle of bubbly completed the experience.

The opera itself was well up to Royal Opera standards: a great cast, fine acting and singing, wonderful props and orchestra.

I decided to pack up at the interval. Unlike the Irrepressible and the Intrepid, I wished to get home, shed my wet clothing and dry off.