Kylie was fantastic. Easily the best concert I have ever seen. Everyone agreed, too. So loud. So much energy. So many costume changes. So many fantastic dancers and acrobats.

I left work at three so that I could get across to Bayswater to check into the hotel I’d booked for the night and then back to Euston with plenty of time to meet the rest of the group to catch the bus to Birmingham at half four. Easy… or so I thought.

The first problem was that I thought the hotel was actually quite close to Paddington, so took the Bakerloo like there and set out to walk. It was quite a way. I arrived at well-gone half three, checked in, dumped my bags then headed out, already very hot in my coat and sweatshirt. By the time I got back to Paddington it was four fifteen, so I popped quickly into WHSmith to buy a copy of Time to read on the coach then jumped on a Metropolitan line train to Euston Square.

We sat there for four minutes while a mad Scot shouted obscenities at the carriage then decided to sit down and talk to me. The doors closed, we trundled to the next station, then the train terminated.

Hmmm.

The Scot started asking questions about platforms and trains, but I ran across to a Circle line tube on the opposite platform and squeezed in just before the doors slammed shut and it pulled away… back towards Paddington. Not good.

I had visions of me missing the coach and slinking back to the office, especially when I had to wait five minutes for the next train east. Fortunately, though, this one took me all the way to Euston Square, and I ran as fast as I could to the rendezvous point outside Body Shop. I was sure I would have missed them, but the rest of the group was still there, and a moment later Mark arrived, too. He’s only been invited fifteen minutes beforehand, and being as much of a Kylie fan as myself I’d been running it in all week that I’d been going to the concert and he was not.

We took a small, uncomfortable coach to Hemel Hempsted where we stopped for food, then drove on to Birmingham, straight past the exit for the NEC, where we needed to get off. The driver didn’t notice, so carried merrily along, until three or four miles later we finally pointed it out.

After an about-turn and an expedition around the acres and acres of car parks we finally made the concert. It had just started, so we missed the support band, LBC. Having that name I’d actually been quite keen to hear them. Kylie herself more than made up for it, though. There had been stories in the press about how she had been lowing her voice and when you see the effort she puts into the show you can quite understand it.

She did everything from the two most recent albums, as well as some revamped versions of her older hits. Even I Should Be So Lucky made an appearance, although only as a bit of a joke. By far the best was Confide in Me, although at this point, wearing a tight policeman uniform, she was completely overshadowed by an acrobat who was seemingly immune to gravity and for seven minutes span, flipped and flew around the stage.

As we left, nobody could say anything but how good it had been. Ursula ranked it above the Madonna she’d seen last year, and we all put her far above Robbie, so had been the previous benchmark.

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