I kinda hate talking on the phone.  But I have this one friend who I’d like see every day, and we actually phone each other, on actual phones, something like once a month.

My Lobsister Emma deserves her own post (*waves*), but for now I shall use our recent conversation as a prologue, if you will, to today’s post.

Emma:  So, what are you guys up to just now?

Me: Oh, just looking forward to the Twin Peaks UK Fest in London soon.

Emma: …. Is that some sort of married couples thing?

Me: Whut?  No, we just really like the show, and thought…

Emma: I thought you said antiques festival!


Emma:  Oh, thank God for that.  We’re not old yet.



That’s Neil’s Festival face.

Our long weekend started with a take-out at my in-law’s house before we dropped Isla off there and boarded the sleeper-train to London.

We sat in the station with not a lot of people.  But there was a piano.  Right there in the middle of the concourse.  Free to play.  As an advert for piano-tuners.

Some random guy came along and began to play the love theme from The Godfather.  Good start to the weekend.

The last time we took the sleeper we were headed to Bruges for our honeymoon.  We were ushered into the same halfaroom and bunk beds we slept in our second night of married life.  Oh, the cramps memories.

I thought I was going to get some reading done, but fell asleep, lulled by the train doing its thing and the promise of endless doughnuts at the Festival.

Dreams were laced with the sound of intergalactic noises coming from the toilet.  Squeaky door doesn’t cover it.  Rusty AF door, maybe.

We arrived in London ahead of schedule at 6 am, and were given complimentary beverages fit for astronauts.

I was helped off the train and the assistance came in the form of a jumped up golf-cart that I couldn’t actually, y’know, jump into.

We put our backpacks in the back of the cart and followed them through the station, dodging people that looked as tired, but infinitely more hungover than we were.

‘Can I borrow that thing to get to Brighton?’  A girl pointed to my chair.

‘Um, no.  But good morning,’ I said.  We perhaps would have made friends if it wasn’t 6am.

We emerged from the train station and went to find our bus stop.  It was just us and the pigeons.  We rode the bus for half an hour.  London from a bus made me miss Edinburgh very much.

We dropped off our bags and went in search of food.  Found a coffee place we’d probably hang out in if we lived there, but we don’t.

Walked to the Festival venue and called Isla before we went inside.

Now.  In the beginning of our relationship Neil and I bonded over binge-watching the boxset of Twin Peaks.  We’d wanted to go to the Twin Peaks UK Festival for years, but this is the first year the planets and coffee cups aligned and we found ourselves waiting outside with a bunch of people better dressed then we were, but geeking out just as hard as we were.

We wore our blue roses with pride.

And then hung out at the merch table.

Ate doughnuts while watching David Lynch inspired short films and then a cabaret show at 1 in the afternoon, drank David Lynch coffee while watching a Q + A with well, not David Lynch.  But still, Twin Peaks.

And to close out the first day, some owls flew over my head.  They actually are what they seem.

Day 2 dawned with an 11am showing of The Elephant Man.

And then.  We went out the side door to get some fresh London air.

Now.  We were kinda surrounded by people dressed up as characters and actors from the show.

We passed someone sitting on a wall.  Someone who looked liked Sherilyn Fenn.

‘Hey,’ she said.

‘Hey,’ we said at the same time.

‘Having fun?’

‘Yeah, it’s great.’

And then comes that awkward moment when you realise that really IS Sherilyn Fenn, and OH MY GOD LEGEND HI.

We talked about the show and the weather and she liked my butterfly handbag.

‘Would it be cheeky to ask for a selfie?’ my husband asks.

‘I can’t believe you asked that.  Who are you?’ I asked him.

But Sherilyn was patient through all of this and we got one and I was *this close* to asking her if we could buy her a coffee.  Because she was so nice.


Sherilyn Fenn and the fangirls.

I was then literally dragged downstairs for a drink and a gig and a stroll through the Black Lodge.

There was a cast Q + A which I LOVED and a costume parade which made me feel inadequate, and then I met an online friend in real life, which was the perfect end to a wonderful, quirky time.

Thanks, Peakies.


Me:  I’m so gonna blog about this.

Emma:  Please do.  I can’t wait to read it.

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