As one has come to expect (in fact know), the organisation of the Stirling Prize party left a lot to be desired.
For inexplicable reasons, everything except the drinking started late. By the time we staggered to our tables to scoff some nouveau food and quaff even more booze, we had been standing up for three hours, helped along by Piers Gough's witty compering under difficult circumstances (perhaps a bit too witty about sustainability winner Sainsbury's store by Chetwood Associates - surely everyone uses cars these days? ) The promised dancing at the end of the evening failed to materialise in any meaningful way. Delightful though the Science Museum venue was, with Richard MacCormac's new wing looking excellent, it is not easy to find anywhere to go on to afterwards, perhaps just as well.
Forlorn groups gathered outside seeking cabs heading for north London. Astragal went south.