I think it went well. It's not always easy to tell very when you can't hear yourself that clearly, but I enjoyed the experience and didn't feel at all nervous, which is, I've no doubt, a good thing.
Playing the 'cello is a painful business, however. Apart from my finger tips being covered in little blisters, the instrument itself is intensely heavy and the walk from Soho to Leicester Square was excruciating; the shoulder strap digging into my neck like nothing I've ever experienced, with the possible exception of the last time I carried my 'cello on the tube (!), although I'm pretty sure one builds up a tolerance to these things.
On the plus side, lugging a 'cello about in Soho seems to attract an enormous amount of attention. Everywhere I looked, I was aware of people trying to catch my eye, and three people tried to chat me up. Everyone wants to date a 'cellist. Maybe it's the hat, or the shirt I'm wearing, but I haven't felt like such a belle of the ball since my mid 20s! I must remember this in the future, as its quite a morale boost for a man on the slow march to forty...
I've just caught my reflection in the tube window. I look like a Parisian from the 1950s. Like someone in a Doisneau photograph. If I carry this case for much longer, however, I'm gonna end up looking like Quasi Modo!