We were performing in The Stone Hall, which was carefully selected as the most echoey room in the whole building. And it was a bloody marvellous job. A great play in a great place with great people. We were given digs at a B and B run by the goddess of food, a sweet, loud and virtually completely deaf christian called Janey, who bellowed at us merrily all evening while cramming meat down our throats with a plunger. As the week went on the cast grew more and more hysterical, and I think our sanity was only saved by the sad fact that we were only there for a week. Nonetheless it was packed out every night, and even though Prince Charles didn't show at the last minute - (This is the second time I've missed him. I think he's avoiding me.) - we raised over a good ten grand for FARA. So next time I go out filming in Romania I expect to see some jolly grateful orphans what ho.
Being back in the smoke is strange. I miss the good local produce, the dogs and sometimes even the fact that everybody howls instead of speaking. Still I wouldn't mind moving out there some time.