Summer evenings, had me a blast...

*sigh* The Tower of London Music Festival is now over. No more evenings sitting outside under a slowly darkening sky, sipping Pimms and listening to great music - in a moat. Well, a former moat. The water was drained in 1843 by order of the Duke of Wellington, or so we were told by the Beefeater welcoming us to the first concert we attended. He added that the reason grass grows so well in the moat is because it doubled as a sewage system for the City of London. Those must have been some fragrant summers back in the day...

But still. How often do you go to a concert in a moat? Next to a 900 year old castle? And men in skirts (okay, not really, but really cool uniforms with peplums) introduce the bands?

We saw three of the acts in what was a two-week long event: Pink Martini, Madeleine Peyroux and Jamie Cullen. Pink Martini (and if you don't know who they are, get thyself to Amazon or iTunes immediately) was a fiesta of good vibes and better dancing; I commented to my husband that we went to an open air party and a Pink Martini concert broke out. There were people having a very good time, filling up the grassy aisles and salsa-ing and swinging to the music. No one told them to sit down and go back to their seats. By the last song, a fabulous rendition of "Brazil" that built and built into a joyous crescendo, everyone was on their feet and a conga line spontaneously formed.

It was muy cool.

When we arrived for Madeleine Peyroux, they traded our back of the audience tickets for the front section. I'm sorry Madeleine didn't sell out but I am very grateful we got to see her up close. This was a more intimate concert, all smokey jazz vocals with a sideorder of blues and bluegrass. We relaxed in our comfortable directors' chairs and let the music wash over us.

Jamie Cullen did sell out, as one would expect from a London boy returning home after a year touring other continents. We were in the back, but Jamie brought three large video screens and two handheld camera operators so while actual Jamie was a tiny figure, virtual Jamie was easy to see. Part young Harry Connick Jr., part young Billy Joel, part all himself, he was thoroughly winning. He brought on a Brazilian street band as a coda to "London Skies" which went on a bit too long considering the time limit (the Tower concerts had to finish at 10:30 sharp, which made them perfect for those who are no longer as young as they think they are, like me). But he won my heart completely with his final song, a lovely piano and voice version of "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans." Since I do indeed know what that means, I very much appreciated the sentiment (and his nod to Louis Armstrong).

Seriously. Music in a moat. It's one of the things that make me appreciate London so much. And the Tower is far from the only place to hear music or see theatre under the sky (I would say stars, but as it is still light until well past 9:00 p.m., that's not strictly true). There's Holland Park, Regent's Park and Kenwood House in Hampstead, all of which we will be visiting before the summer is over. There's free opera on big screens in Trafalgar Sqaure. There's the Globe, open to the elements. When it is sunny and warm (which luckily it has been), there's nothing more wonderful.

So, while I'm still a little homesick, we're definitely trying to make the most of the summer. After all, there are Pimm cups to be drunk.