ALASDAIR SATCHEL’S WEBLOG


Glenkinchie / Edinburgh

1 August 2008

So here we are in Edinburgh, all settled in to our swanky Georgian apartment. The weather has been very clammy the last few days, by jingo it's just been a bit sweaty. It's got so hot that I'm sleeping above the covers on a nightly basis.

The show is getting into its flow at Glenkinchie Distillery. We're playing in an old garage off to the side of the main distillery. Surprisingly it's one of the sweatier venues that we've encountered. The dancing has been popular here, and we've often ended up with a bit of a scrum on the dance floor, which makes for good fun.

Our venue also has the added thrill of a frog infestation. Which I quite like. Lovely little hoppy things, so they are.

One member of the cast, who shall remain nameless, has a pathological fear of all things raninidean, and so when she, sorry, they, were about to make an entrance from our one off-stage entrance, and the other cast member placed a little froggy on top of their hat, she (they – sorry Helen, nearly gave it away!) had to restrain their screams as hard as they could. Especially when it leaped off in to the darkness... It could have ended up anywhere. Poor wee frog.

When we get back to Edinburgh from the distillery, it's more often than not quite late, what with the parking restrictions in this part of the world. So we've been retreating to the safety of the League Of Gentlemen series two of an evening. “Scoobee, has anybaden got any bodle of owangejoos?” is usually the cry.

And so onwards to the Fringe.

© Alasdair Satchel, 2008

Links

• Mull Theatre
• Right Lines