Hello. How've you been? Your hair looks nice today. I hope it's not raining as much outside your window as it is outside mine. Well, it's not MY window, it's the window of the little flat I have been living in for a couple of weeks. It's in Edinburgh. And Edinburgh, it seems, is currently going through the Autumn to Winter changeover. It was so cold today I was instructed to bring my husband an emergency jumper. These, my friends, are chilly times. I have spent the last 2 days sneezing, as the Edinburgh germ monkey has taken me in its little tartan grip. I am sporting the ever-attractive red nose/puffy eyes/bits of soggy tissue spilling out of your handbag/olbas oil scented look that is ever so the rage north of the border once the festival hits.
Right now I am squirrelled away in a little corner of Edinburgh. This time tomorrow I will be snuggled down in Joni the beautiful orangey yellow campervan, at entirely the other end of the country. Cornwall, wonderful Cornwall. I don't care if it's raining, if it's foggy, if it's so cold I need to put on MY emergency cardigan, all I need is a little bit of peace and nature, where teenagers don't try to give me small pieces of card whilst walking like demon creatures next to me and wearing pointy shoes and singing into my face without accompaniment. I also need some vegetables. Or just ANY GREEN FOOD.
The festival has been exhausting and eye opening in equal measure. I have seen theatre that has inspired me, made me feel excited about making more work. I have seen theatre that has left me thinking a lot about the role of the audience in the telling of a story. I have seen theatre that made me incredibly proud of the man I married. I have seen one piece of theatre that made me so angry I had to take my jumper off.
It has, as always, been an emotional and financial rollercoaster. (the financial rollercoaster would just consist of one track that plummets steadily into the ground, then leaves you there, strapped in, until you manage to pedal your way out whilst screaming HELP ME to the people who pass by)
Joni the campervan has not been with us up here in Scotland. She is waiting patiently for us in Cornwall, sporting her lovely silvery jacket and full of camping accessories (including some melamine plates that I am PRETTY SURE I forgot to wash before getting the train up here. If Joni smells like a dead mackerel, or has grown mushroom clusters, then I only have myself to blame) We are flying from Edinburgh to Cornwall and I have already had to convince someone else to drive some of my luggage back for me, having bought a 1950s style peach dress with loads of netting, that is so poofy it won't actually fit into my bag. I was tempted to wear it onboard, but then decided that Mad Men chic possibly wasn't the most comfortable of choices on a plane. I was also nervous about getting the netting trapped in the moving walkways at the aiport and getting limbs ripped off, which wouldn't help with the relaxation I've got planned.
In terms of 'Running on Air' there is still some distance to go. Next stop is Falmouth, somewhere I am looking forward to immensely, not least because we are being parked really near a really good pasty shop. Lots of my husbands friends and family will be coming along and I'm excited about performing the show there, as much of the story is about Cornwall. It's somewhere I feel happy, somewhere I love to spend time and somewhere I can wear wellies all the time without judgement. I got married there, in an apocolyptic storm that was so awful it made the news.
I really can't wait to be back.
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