On Saturday we had met Plácido outside the Stage Door at the Teatro Real as he arrived for that evening's performance. It was almost a chance encounter, although I would be lying if I didn't say - I wonder if anyone will be waiting outside the Stage Door; if there is, I'll be there, too. As we returned to our hotel we saw a group of people gathered, including some familiar faces. He arrived earlier than I expected. On Tuesday I resolved to be there again, and in good time.
It is handy being in a hotel so close to the theatre. We had decided to get ready for the evening, go out to the stage Door, and then find somewhere to eat. I was ready and Jimmy was not (which is unusual, but reflected more on his slowness than my eagerness. Honest.) He told me to get lost, that he would follow me down when he was ready. So I left the hotel and crossed over to near the Stage Door, arriving at exactly the same moment that Plácido did. I had my camera slung over my shoulder, not even switched on! Plácido was in conversation with a Spanish couple, then he turned to me and took my hand. I can't actually remember if either of us said anything; if so, it was hello or somesuch. I do recall gazing into his eyes and trembling!
He then walked towards the actual stage door and suddenly he was mobbed by an entire coach party, so I just stood back and watched, amused, as he charmed them, talking to them and posing for photos and so on, completely unfazed at being mobbed.
