Monday, February 03, 2003

I too did a search for the Royal Vauxhall Tavern this morning, and came across this page, which seemed to be a review of the place, in German. I ran it through a Babelfish translation, and now it makes sense. Well, sort of, as these excerpts show:
Per: Well attainable with bus and course, nice chaps, fantastische Show, ingenious tendency, moderate prices.
Against: The volume! Queues at the inlet.
"Hello pos around!" the battle call is welcomed by superstar lady Edna with that it its fans, Verehrer and ex husbands. As a large fan of its Show I was naturally strained, when I experienced with my first London stay that a small club with the hochtrabenden name "The Royal Vauxhall Tavern" has each Sunday a Show "named lady Edna" Experience on the program. What would expect us there? Lady Edna for arms? And at all, which was for a shed?

We go in the Londoner the south. Strangely lost working building stands directly in relation to the tube station Vauxhall - that is it: "The Royal Vauxhall Tavern". The tube is by the way nothing indecent separates the name for the Londoner underground. (those indecent things come later...)

It precedes also quite quickly, because the club begins itself to only fill. Is it only times fully applies: one into one out. Thus only if someone goes, clean-let someone. And before the Show nobody, it there naturally goes can happen that between five and un the end of the Show around seven no inlet is. Appear thus early, in order to avoid disappointment! Who is smart and time would like to save, o'clock already goes and gets themselves its bracelet for the price of 5 Pound and comes back punctually to the Show at 6 o'clock around two or three. The bracelet is the ticket, which makes possible to each time the entrance to fuselage forward section. It is from stable plastics and gets over all "shenanigans" (who does not have to look up the word now, may on itself be powerfully proud).

Finite are we in it. At a long side of the area a stage at the other one bar. In the semicircular a loft also a few few seat lyingnesses, which is remainder of the area up to a few standing tables and narrow heads of molten metal unmoebliert. Ever more guests of the heterosexual Tuersteherin in the Kampflesbenlook are let in. It is by the way one of the few (genuine) women of the meeting.

It becomes fuller and more fully. Even in a stage in which one would not have considered this possible becomes it still more fully. And then it becomes again fuller. On estimated 80 square meters estimated 300 people. With the crowding even a Oelsardine would get klaustrophobische accumulations.

As I hardly still beer and cigarette to keep simultaneous can begin the Show. On the stage steps:

Lady Edna superstar!

With the Boshaftigkeiten of the wrong lady Edna my English knowledge is, I for completely passably always kept, hopelessly overtaxed. A half hour is pulled over everything, about what the Yellowpress of the island in the past week reported and much local gossip and gossip participate also. The public raves and I is annoyed that I do not understand times half.

Then the Show turns, the peruecke over falls and on the stage stands alternating for Robbie Williams, Debbie Harry and Freddy Mercury. Which for a voice! I am inspired - and the remaining estimated 299 present ones also.

The DJ transfers and movement comes into the mass. It is to be danced. Dance? With the crowding? Now, one arranges oneself. From that drilled out HFM roars to loudspeakers with Eurobeats (homo friendly music). Exactly the correct mixture between dancable uffta uffta and melody remainders to heitern the Mitraten. Kylie and Madonna may not be missing, and otherwise the DJ of everything verwurstet which in the Clubcharts is momentary. Only a little too loud. (I assume, the public-address system favorably one from the recently torn off Wembley stage purchased.) I recommend urgently good ear plugs. Verbal communication is so well impossible.

Meanwhile the Meute comes into momentum. No miracle, most are eh on any letter of the alphabet. Before the lady toilet a continuous queue. If the colleagues of James Bond in the neighbouring MI6-Gebaeude would work around this time and a view from the window would risk, they would see being thrown a club in that to pills which things hold. Bizarr... I have rarely a club seen into so openly so many drugs to be consumed. I adhere to beer, prefer Jamaican "talk to Stripe" in doses. Thus one does not bury the precious wet at least in the crowding. Finally the pint costs 2.85 Pound (ca.4,50 euro), with which however on the local price level moves the fuselage forward sections. Soft drinks cost 2, clothes 1 Pound. Even Euros are accepted.

Within short nine of ten guests made their torso free. That is only partially because of narzistischen inclinations of the present ones and has above all somewhat with the fact to do that there is no (in words NONE) air conditioning system. Even in the winter both doors are open checkfishing rod far, which provides however only in their direct proximity for something fresh air. In the summer still another blower the several times ventilated gas mixture, which one hardly still breathing air can call strives, to through-agitate. With only small success. Therefore one sees grapes/clusters of halfnaked men with steaming torsos also in the cold season before the house. In the summer the adjacent park is taken as chill out AREA in fitting. There is not a retreat area in the building unfortunately.

The average age of the public is appropriate for chest hair over 30, the existing main hair predominantly short-cropped is carried and proudly shown. So I like that. Above average many men, who fit rather exactly into my booty pattern. In addition an omitted party tendency, to which the fantastische Show before the party contributes and which is not continued to heat up by various chemicals freely for sale and alcohol. Englishmen know as one celebrate. Between 23 and 23:30 o'clock the restaurant empties quite suddenly, because around midnight is everything past. Home one comes with bus or night bus. Stops are nearly direct before the entry door.


I amuse myself on hardly another party as well as Sundays in the Royal Vauxhall Tavern. A grandiose Travestie Show, nice men, a dancable music and the English way of life make an unbeatable mixture. For me this meeting belongs simply to an attendance in the British capital. To prevent perfect means around sun-daily boredom and a recommendation for each gay London tourist. But always remember, the saying printed thickly in the newspaper advertisements of the fuselage forward sections is quite seriously to be taken: Arrive early to avoid disappointment.  

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