Old Blighty, Go Lighty
To everyone on the receiving end of this one,
Hope all's well in your various spaces on the planet.
This report comes from summery Edinburgh, which serves up a tantalising serve of sunlight for several minutes each day and then slithers comfortably into drizzle and the distinct impression of an Aussie winter.
Still what can I say; it's good to be up in the world literally, as far north on the planet as I've ever been and seeing a different side of it.
Since landing in London mid-June I skulked onto a building site to cart plasterboard and earn a quid [Yes finally that oft heard expression took on its true perspective].
London ain't the cheapest place around and yet I managed to get out of there with the balance sheet in the Black and a bit of an insight into the centre of the pommy universe.
Not a great deal on the visitation front but I met some good people and had a laugh variously, especially as the Aussies cleaned up the sporting arenas around the place and had the locals reaching for the excuse manual, all in good humour.
Since reaching the Scotch capital I've literally been thrust underground into a subterranean existence that at times has threatened my sanity, but which at this point as I settle down into enjoying the festival feel is looking more like a prize achievement.
I arrived in this place not knowing what to expect and in the last month have been cast into one of those managerial and bureaucratic nightmares as the mob who I am working for set to coaxing a bunch of various individuals to slave in the theatrical salt-mines to get 8 venues up and running in 2 weeks for the festival.
To say it has been complete madness would be to negate the truth of some long hours and some journeys beyond seemingly the edge of the impossible.
But in the scheme of it they threw me into a vault under the city to scratch a theatre space out of thirty-foot stone ceilings [200 year old stalactites included] and tales of ghosts and a seedy history.
This place, to all as the underground, is truly an incredible space, which puts anything else to shame and stands as the redeeming feature of the experience so far. After many hours on circular saws and drills, up ladders, building scaffold, hanging from edges and generally sweating, spilling blood and frying the brain, the place opened and is now wondered at by the visiting public.
Mission accomplished for me, I can now slip into enjoying the shows and the pulse of the festival in this impressive city of the ancients.
Not sure of the next move, will keep in touch as my brain clicks some vague plan into action.
Great to hear from anyone with a word on the day or the moment.
Take it easy,
Love The Wookiee. (Wearing the summer fur)
