When you live in rural Argyll there are some things that seem quite alien. Like crowds of people. And traffic.

Down in London for a hit and run, I realised that I now qualify as a fully fledged country bumpkin.

There are of course upsides to metropolitan living – like masses of entertainment on hand, and convenience stores which don’t bat an eyelid at you rocking up at 10.45pm having forgotten to get breakfast supplies in.

The tube trains and Overground services are also mighty convenient for mass transiting people; then again, in the height of summer, with overcrowded carriages, they don’t really qualify as a pleasurable travel experience.

My mission, titter ye not, was to catch the ABBA Voyage show, which I’d been assured by sundry friends was an unmissable experience. They did not lie. More of which later.

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But first, a note about the utter transformation of that part of London’s east end which the Olympics completely renewed. Not just the transport links, but the leisure services and a positive over abundance of bars and restaurants.

Not much cop, I recognise, for the swathes of UK taxpayers who picked up the tab for infrastructure only available to the favoured few, but evidence nevertheless about how major sporting occasions can leave a lasting legacy.

As for ABBA! The crowds assembling at the custom build arena were all ages and stages much to my relief. This particular fab four enjoy inter generational appeal.

The show itself is a triumph of dazzling innovation. Avatars of the group in their prime are “on stage” as are a truly first class band and backing group. Mammoth panels at the side – presumably taken from archive footage – also feature the individual members much, much larger than life.

But the star of the piece for my (quite a lot of) money was the lighting director. The kinetic lighting installation for the show is quite extraordinary, reflecting as it does off a range of mobile mirrors plus the use of LED pixel strings

The overall effect is quite simply stunning. There is a huge floor area reserved for standing punters who might want to dance the night away, but frankly it was so tightly packed that anyone wanting to throw serious shapes risked being done for inadvertent sexual assault!

Mind you, as the band belted out all everyone’s favourite numbers it wasn’t just the floor crowd who were on their feet and giving it laldy.

The wumman in the adjoining seat might have contravened the Trades Descriptions Act as a dancing queen at 17, but no way was she letting that cramp her style.

Not many experiences live up to the advance hype. This sure does.