The Tortoise, The Sea Shanties and The Cafe of Nuns

GOSH! What on earth happened there? I hear you cry. Where were you all that time, Mugridge? You deserted ‘all’ of us for so very long.

DON’T WORRY EVERYBODY! I’m HERE! Since I last wrote this, I have been to France where I helped to curate a theatre festival in a 13th century abbey, then we slept in a French car park for a few days, and now I am in Dorset, spending my days dressed as a tortoise, chasing my husband around in front of small children whilst wearing a crash helmet.

OF COURSE.

(I should explain for those people who think that this makes my husband and I exhibitionist perverts, we are not. We are performing ‘The Hare and the Tortoise’ in Dorset until Christmas Eve. So that clears that up)

I am currently sitting in our digs in Poole, in ‘Dolphin Cottage.’ We came to the realisation about 4 minutes after moving in that the emphasis should be on ‘dolphin’ rather than ‘cottage.’ There are no cottage-like accents to this house at all. No open fire, no thatched roof, no inconveniently chilly floor tiles. There are, however, ceramic dolphins EVERYWHERE. Tom accidentally sat on one the first week we were here, coming to the conclusion that Dorset dolphins have surprisingly sharp fins.

Having one place to be for 6 whole weeks has been, quite simply, heaven. After a year of being all over the place, never being in one home for more than 2 weeks, having somewhere to call home for over a month has been just what I needed. I got overexcited about cooking again just because I had a kitchen, and I’ve roasted ALL KINDS of crazy stuff. (by this I mean beetroot and once, carrots.)

An extended period of time by the sea has also left me feeling very creative. I have 2 weeks booked in as soon as the New Year begins to work on my next solo project and I keep having bursts of getting all giddy and writing down ideas. I decided to start 2012 off with a big exciting leap and I can’t imagine anything more exciting than 2 weeks in a rehearsal room with 2 inspiring people, very possibly listening to Van Halen really loud before each day’s work begins.

Enough of me being all giddy about the future, here are some memorable moments of the last few months:

1) Whilst wild- camping in France (NB- this does not, as several people have thought, mean ‘naked camping.’) we decided to be cavalier and ask a farmer if we could stay in his field. I think he was a bit confused, but he did look a bit like the farmer out of ‘Babe’ which made me feel less frightened that he was going to come out of his house with a big shovel and bludgeon us both to death.

2) During one afternoon of driving round French countryside a bit aimlessly, looking for somewhere to get a sandwich, the only place we found open was a café full of nuns. They were eating omelettes and talking about unemployment levels in Britain.

3) During rehearsals for The Hare and The Tortoise, I was suffering with knots in my shoulders (being a tortoise seems to involve being quite hunched) and so I decided to book myself in for a massage at The Lush Spa. I like Lush, I like strangers greasing me up. It was going to be a good afternoon. Imagine my delight (and inner monologue) when the massage unexpectedly turned out to be ‘sea-themed’ with a room ankle-deep in dry ice, a soundtrack of vigorous sea shanties and bird calls, and a cup of tea, shortbread and RUM at the end. Imagine it. Just imagine. Then imagine me on the massage table resisting the urge not to shout ‘THIS IS HILARIOUS AND I LOVE IT’ to the lovely polite French lady working magic on my shoulders. A ridiculous and perfect afternoon.

4) Due to suddenly having our evenings free (children watch theatre in the day?!I know!) my husband and I decided to ‘get into Buffy.’ NO THAT IS NOT RUDE. It turns out that I missed out massively as a teenager, as I didn’t even manage to catch one episode. Despite my irritation of Buffy often being dressed like a lady of the night (althought that MIGHT just be the 90s) and being quite often genuinely frightened, I am really enjoying it. Yes, I spent one episode behind a cushion due to an irrational fear of ventriloquist dummies, but when they start killing people and talking on their own, I think I’m allowed that one.

5) Solely based on the recommendation of a man who works in Lush (I’ve spent an expensive amount of time in that shop over the last 6 weeks) Tom and I took the train to Boscombe, 20 minutes away on the train from Poole, to visit a café where apparently, they do a good flapjack. Predictably, and in true Frankland style, the café was shut. We went to another café instead where we bought a lamp and the best tablecloth in the world. (true fact)

6) We went back to the recommended café the next day. We got there too late. It was shut again.

7) My bestest pal came down from London at the end of a tiring weekend wearing aforementioned crash helmet and running on the spot a lot to the cheers of many children. The two of us spent an entire day in pyjamas, watching classic and indeed classic films such as Home Alone 2. It was truly the most perfect and restful way to spend the day. Yes, we got up and went outside for an hour at the beginning of the day to forage for food (go to a café for eggs benedict) but we were promptly back in the pyjamas, eating cheese off a big board and working our way through The Vicar of Dibley Christmas Specials.

So, there you have it. The next 2 weeks before Christmas bring a move to The Lyric Theatre in Bridport where we perform until Christmas Eve, and a sad goodbye to Dolphin Cottage and the fibre-optic Christmas tree we found in a cupboard here.

This is tortoise, signing out for now.

Merry pre-Christmas Christmas, everyone