The Rather Expected Journey

Today my phone woke me up at 6am and I leapt out of bed. No, this was no early call time, this was my travel alarm. Today, I begin the long and arduous journey to Germany without the aid of air travel.

It will be many trains, a coach, and a brief ferry crossing before I see my parents but overall I'm looking forward to a day of sitting down. Well, a day and a half really, I won't arrive in Leipzig until tomorrow afternoon, but at least I'll have plenty of time to nap. As such, I won't be writing any more postcards this year, as I won't be back to touring life until January; should you wish to be kept abreast of my daily affairs, you may consider my other blogs (I shall be posting over the New Year's period about what London is like) or alternatively, Facebook is usually quite up to date.

Merry Christmas, minions! Be good and we'll speak again soon.

Much Better, Now.. Tea?

Finally, after days of turmoil and struggle (admittedly more for the team than myself), I'm feeling back to normal. Just in time too, as we've only got two shows on Sunday before we are rewarded with a long-awaited Christmas break.

Today I was introduced to the Irn-Bru Carnival in Glasgow, a splendid fairground assambled indoors to protect from the weather. The result was rollercoasters, funhouses, rides, and bumper cars - some I hadn't even seen since I was a boy running excitedly around Hull Fair. The boyish attitude came out in full force as I pranced around eagerly standing in queues, screaming and laughing on stomach-jolting rides, and enjoying the company of friends. I must admit that I will be happy to be back in London, but the friendships I've fostered here will certainly remain.

Inevitable Illness

The following post contains images which may disress some readers. Please to not attempt to read if you are eating, or of a squeamish nature.

I'm sick. I knew it would happen eventually, but I was in no way prepared for the magnitude of my current ill health. It started on Monday evening, not long after I had written my daily blog post and was settling down to sleep. My stomach was having none of it. Seconds after the last person had shut their bathroom door, I was creeping gingerly around Joe's bed, carefully pacing down the stairs, locking the bathroom door behind me, and making a quick mental calculation, I threw up into the sink. The mental calculation in question was a case of sink or toilet, sink won because my gut was feeling as bad as my stomach, and thus began a night of frequent vomiting and very little sleep. I warned you the images would be distressing.

The following morning, as the other team were leaving, and long before I'm usually awake, I was throwing up again (all I had in me was water, but it was coming up with vigour) and really wishing I could take a day off. Sadly, such things don't exist in this job, so I held down a slice of dry toast and a few tentative sips of water, and went to work. Tuesday was awful. There is no other way to describe it. I threw up the water I consumed during the first show, but thankfully managed to retain a small bottle of orange juice and a few mouthfulls of Ribena before the second show, allowing me just enough energy to prevent stage collapse.

Today was slightly better, I managed a large bowl of cereal in the morning and packed a substantial lunch, ready to face the day ahead. The show was about to start and I suddenly realized I really wasn't feeling well. Bloated was the word which eventually came to mind, as the aftermath of vomiting had left a large amount of trapped gas. Now, and how's this for a distressing image, gas trapped lower in the digestive tract can act as a plug in the furthermost regions. As a result, I tried at all costs to avoid jumping, running, or even shouting in case I managed to dislodge said plug and the contents of my still ill body spilled into my costume. Fortunately at lunchtime we stopped opposite a pharmacy, which provided a very useful diagnosis and tablets to aid the problem. The second show was much more successful; after I had taken a few moments alone to deflate the tyre that was my colon I was able to dance and sing with a newfound vigour and joy! Of course, as soon as the show finished my body reminded me that I still hadn't had a decent meal in almost two days (lunch was impossible). I collapsed into the van and proceded to make up for two days of missed pointless conversation.

Lasts

The last Monday saw the last double, the last chance to have a one-to-one with a company manager. Well, the last before Christmas anyway. It was a long day with little respite and a surprise visit from Emma (who shall hereafter be known as Clugel), who's no-nonsense attitude and charming demeanour (coupled with her addressing me loudly as 'DinDORF!') earned her an immediate place in my affections during rehearsals.

This alone may be the most important week of our tour. It's the final week of term, schools are paying hefty (undisclosed) amounts for the privilege of our performing to them, and the Spirit of Christmas is driving us forward to our well-deserved holiday. I've decided to try not to stress about what I face after we finish on Sunday, and must resign myself to 30 hours of travel between Ayr, Scotland and Leipzig, Germany. Joy to the world.

Under One Roof

This, the penultimate weekend before Christmas, we're in a beautiful cottage in Scotland, sardined in with another team (which happens to contain our director and her boyfriend). It's a glorious reunion and a lovely way to spend the last week before our well-deserved Christmas break.

I have to admit that I would have a much more tedious tour if we hadn't so frequently been close to other teams. Don't get me wrong, the four of us still get along like we've been life-long friends, but I just like meeting new people, and there's only so much new information you can learn from a person before people say you have an 'unhealthy obsession'. So prepare for a week of frolicking, galavanting, and delightful anecdotes. And then, (the following is in upper case and must be read as such,) IT'S CHRIIIISTMAAAAS!

Feels like Friday

This has been a long day. Two days, really. The usual relaxation which accompanies Friday and Saturday were not afforded to us this week. We had to pack everything on Friday in preparation for leaving, and then today we had an hours drive, ninety minutes to kill in a little café, a ninety minute get-in, two shows (both with intervals, and an hour's break between the two), and finally get-out, hour's drive, and unloading at this week's accom.

If I thought I was tired before, past me is laughing at how tired I have become. And to top it off we start next week with a double on Monday morning. Joy to the world. On the plus side, my cold appears to be receding, so hopefully no more coughing into people's faces.

Snow Business Like Show Business

Today, in the misty peaks of Scotland, I glimpsed the winter's first snowfall. It was... Cold. Some might use words like 'magical' or 'pretty' but the fact is it was cold, wet, and white. The effect wasn't helped by the fact that most of the precipitation actually amounted to sleet, which is not comfortable to walk through at the best of times, least of all when performing heavy lifting duties.

On the plus side, schools are fully into Christmas and children are excitable, a huge boost when it comes to pantomime performances. The cheering, clapping and boos increase steadily in volume and it makes a huge difference to us on stage having something to play against. If I'd wanted silent, contemplative audiences I would have perused a career in poetry reading.

A Stitch in Time

I am really starting to loath a costume item that requires near daily maintenance. Especially when it's an essential item, and when it takes precedence over less prominent clothing. My pair of full-body undergarments, revealed only briefly at the end of the show, are worn from curtain up and as such get plenty of wear and tear. Mostly tear in this case.

The most frustrating thing is that my efforts are all for nought. The fabric isn't exactly brand new, and many wearers and washes have worn the material so thin that it has gone from tearing to completely vanishing, leaving the odd loose thread and a gaping hole in its place. I try to see these holes, but this just makes the costume tighter, meaning more rips begin to creep their way in. A vicious catch-22 of thread and needle, though I haven't stabbed myself recently I suppose (touch wood).

Kings, Princes, and Pirates

An exciting weekend, eh? Well, it was for those of us who've been following I'm A Celebrity for the past few weeks. Carl Fogarty (Foggy) became a very deserving King of the Jungle, beating the likes of Michael Burke, Edwina Currie, and Melanie Sykes. Go on lad!

X Factor is in it's final stages, and yep. That's happening. Tonight is The Royal Variety Performance, which is basically an excellent annual excuse to gather together comedians, musicians, and other performers and show them off to the royal family for the entertainment of the general British populus. I, however, have torn myself away in the noble pursuit of sleep. Hook has been a little lacklustre lately and I'm trying to bring him back up to scratch before Christmas. Got two busy weeks ahead to perfect the act, and we all know how I love a challenge.

Shiny, Sparkly Clean

I seem to clean best after midnight. Not sure why, I'm rather tired and have been feeling completely exhausted during shows recently, but the kitchen is beautiful, my laundry is done and Family Guy has been on TV for a little over an hour.

Tomorrow we're off back to Scotland, chasing winter as much as it may try to elude us.

Balancing Act

This title is rather literal, and refers to my distinct inability to stay on my feet. A day or two ago, Joe had to physically catch hold of me whilst we were on stage to prevent me from falling into the flat, likely crushing poor Emily who would have been behind it. Today, in the middle of a song I prepared to spin the same flat, and the usually fluid motion of throwing a curtain over me became a desperate struggle to remain upright. Fortunately the worst did not happen, and Grace and I had a good laugh about it. Even if it had fallen, the stage was empty so the only damage would have been to my pride (and possibly the set after I landed heavily on top of it.)

I'm not sure what's been causing my recent dramatic failures of balance. Perhaps I'm just tired, perhaps my feet are not coping with unsupportive shoes, perhaps my inner-ears are slowly eroding from the speaker-exposure. Either way, I'm sure it's nothing too serious.

All The World's A Stage

And a really small one at that.

You know, if someone had told me a year ago that this Christmas time I'd be on stage about once a week, I'd have been filled with prophetic joy. Of course that was before I joined a company that built and transported their own specialty sets. Sets which are built around a one-size-fits-all and curtains-solve-everything theory. It's a brilliant idea, in theory and in practice. 90% of the time we have nice big school halls, space to spread out and really work the whole performance space. And then there's the other times.

Sets are usually built on stages, to fit the stage. Stages, however, are not built with sets in mind, and so we have often found ourselves crushed into tiny spaces with a large amount of equipment and packaging (i.e. big, space-hogging boxes) leaving us to shimmy around backstage as though we were trying not to wake some sort of sleeping monster. Not exactly glamorous, but somehow I manage to smile nonetheless. Probably because I still enjoy it.

Peter also hit Captain Hook today in the face. With a sword. Luckily there's enough movement in that scene to cover up my unstoppable laughter.

Scrooge McHook

Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas. Not as much as some people, admittedly, I find it difficult to muster the unbridled joy I had in my childhood but it's a time of year when I'll usually see my family which is always something to look forward to.

Of course, with Christmas in the air, schools go into overdrive with festive cheer, and today I saw one of the largest real Christmas trees of my life, which happened to be taking up a good quarter of our backstage space. More importantly, the space I would normally use to change, set my costume and props, and where I would discard said items when I jumped off stage. A minor inconvenience to say the least, I almost left half of my costume under the tree as we left. It also resulted in my kicking a fallen bauble onto stage at one point as I rushed from exit to entrance.

On the plus side, my Christmas travel has been booked and paid for so I've now got some long trains and overnight busses to look forward to over the break.

The Ol' Switcheroo

Christmas is in the air; advent calendars are opening, Olly Murs was on Radio One playing various festive jingles, Christmas trees have appeared in houses and schools alike, but the universe couldn't let us forget that it was Monday, and nobody is allowed to like Mondays.

We arrived at school number one, and everything seemed in order. A reasonable get-in, cups of tea, Christmas decorations galore, all going well. I was halfway through securing all the curtains with gaffa tape, when Joe announced that the office had been called by our morning school to say we hadn't arrived. Odd, I thought, we've been here almost an hour and they haven't noticed us? They even brought us tea. How very unobservant of them. Of course then it was found out that today's school had traded places since we had first been given our schedule, and we were standing in the afternoon school. We have never, and with any luck will never, do a get-out with such vigour ever again. By the time we got back into the van I was perspiring heavily, and we hadn't even done a show. The intended school were very nice about it, allowing us to start late seemed to suit their needs. The afternoon school (to which we hastily returned after having no time to stop during lunch) was also very nice and we started on schedule.

It doesn't matter what time of year it is, who you're with, or what you're doing; Mondays will always be rubbish.