Well I promised you London chapter and verse on Monday, but other desperately important Wonkana paraphernalia took me away from the keyboard. So return I will to our escapade in The Smoke. The original intention was to bombard innumerable PR agencies with our portfolio of podcasting. In the end, Aussie Col and I structured our day around a trip to Primrose Hill. That and the pub. And Pret A Manger. And another pub.
Good old Primmers, that bastion of creativity and refuge of myriad thesps. Sean Bean lives there. And to Boromir a well known phrase, "if it's good enough for Sheffield's most famous son, it's good enough for Wonkana".
The inner sanctum of Hart Media, promoters par excellence, was a Bohemian affair with a strong sense of bonhomie. One of their affable number was taking a quick tea break on the sun drenched terrace, whilst another deftly brewed coffee just to my liking. I know that blogs are often viewed as even more vivid than the dysfunctional merry go round of Kerry Katona's, but I shall exercise restraint and desist from a blow by blow account. This much I will say; the music industry would struggle to find a more genuine figure than Toby at said company. Call me old fashioned, but I believe the contents of a meeting are sacrosanct.
Now, when's that OK centre spread?
