It's the end of the year.
So what did we do in 2009?
In January, we organised a seminar in Kanonhallen in Oslo, where we performed Everything Falls Apart and the Trilogy. People from all over Europe came over to see our new show and to discuss theatre for/with young people. From Oslo, I drove to Parma, where we played The End of Everything Ever and Past Half Remembered. This was the first time we performed in Italy.
In February, we toured some UK venues with The End of Everything Ever.
In March, we rehearsed and opened Das Schiff on the steamboat Schönbrunn in Linz. We worked together with our friends from Sgaramusch, and made the show as part of Linz09 and Schäxpir.
In April, rehearsals started for Berlin 1961, a co-production with Junges Ensemble Stuttgart. At the same time, we were still playing Das Schiff in Linz. We also brough Everything Falls Apart to Stuttgart while The Song of Lost Treasures toured Norway.
In May, The Song of Lost Treasure continued its tour in Norway and Berlin 1961 continued rehearsals in Stuttgart to open in June.
In July, Das Schiff played throughout the Schäxpir festival in Linz. At the end of July we rehearsed My Life with the Dogs to get ready for Edinburgh.
We spent all of August in Edinburgh to play My Life with the Dogs at The Pleasance.
In September we went all the way to the North of Norway with My Life with the Dogs, and then travelled from there to Horn, Prague and Jindrichuv Hradec with Everything Falls Apart.
In October, My Life with the Dogs went to the UK for a two week tour, while The Song of Lost Treasures toured in Vestfold in Norway. Berlin 1961 played was on in Stuttgart.
In November we crossed the Atlantic in a cargo ship as part of R&D for Tales of a Sea Journey and The Song of Lost Treasures toured in Norway.
In December, Berlin 1961 played in Stuttgart and we did the first two weeks of development of Around the World in 80 Days at BAC in London.
Monday, 21 December 2009
From London to Belgium in 80 Days
We all travelled home yesterday and I'm not sure whether all of us made it home.
If you were at home following the news of cancelled flights and closed airports, consider yourself lucky.
I was supposed to go home by Eurostar. There was a slight worry last week when the British Eurostar crew announced a strike. That worry subsided when it was decided that the French and the Belgians would work instead.
But that was before the White Christmas decided to make a real effort this year.
On Saturday morning we found out that the Eurostar was broken. Apparently it froze when it came out of the tunnel.
Cat immediately bought me a backup flight, and I thought I could go down to St. Pancras on Sunday, check it out and if it wasn't happening, still head to Heathrow for the backup flight.
But an hour later United Airlines left Cat a message saying they'd cancelled the flight she just booked and they put me on a BMI flight earlier on Sunday morning. But I had to go to the UA desk first to pick up my new ticket.
Throughout the day it became very clear that travel was going to be chaos. Wherever you were planning to go, it wasn't going to be easy.
So on Sunday morning I decided to get to Heathrow early. I got there at 8am, and went straight to the UA desk. Terminal 1 was heaving. Check-in queues were looooong, and all around people were sitting on there luggage, looking at the departure screens, some of them crying, most of them on their mobiles.
The queue I was in wasn't that long. There were about 7 people ahead of me (I didn't count couples, as they would be served together). But it was United Airlines and their flight to Washington had just been cancelled, along with some other flights to the States. Most people in front of me were there to attempt to find an alternative way to get to their destination.
At 9.45am I had my new ticket. I felt enormously privileged, because most of the people around me would not be able to fly that day.
Check-in was quite fast, and so was security. The gate opened at 10.45 (half an hour before the flight), and everything still seemed fine.
But then a man came out of the double doors that led to the plane and said Brussels airport was closed because all three landing strips were covered in ice.
He said the plan was that Brussels would open again at 4pm, but because this plane couldn't just sit at that gate for so long, he suggested we board the plane immediately and wait on the plane. He thought we'd be on the plane for two hours before taking off. He gave us 10 minutes to decide.
This was weird. A group of people who didn't know each other had to come to a consensus about boarding or not boarding. I left and went to get some food just in case.
By the time I got back they'd decided not to board just yet. We'd board at 12.50, aiming to leave at 2pm, so we'd be landing at 4pm Brussels time.
I stayed at the gate. The departure hall was heaving with people who were not going anywhere for quite some time, and the gate was calmer.
At 12.45, the man came back and said we wouldn't be boarding after all. He sent us all back to the departure hall, telling us to keep an eye on the screens.
The screens kept saying 'Delayed until 12.50' - even though it was now later than that.
Suddenly, at 1.50pm, the screens read: 'Flight closing'. Me and quite a few other people ran back to the gate. We got on buses that drove us to the plane and by 2.45pm we took off.
I was in Brussels at 5pm local time. The arrivals hall looked spectacular: suitcases everywhere, every conveyor belt was full, and airport staff tried to clear luggage from previous flights off the belts to other areas of the hall. I didn't quite understand how all that luggage could have arrived without people, but that must all be from people who were on connecting flights and had gotten stuck halfway. The luggage must have been on another flight.
I was out by 5.30pm, and as I bought my train ticket, the man said all trains were suffering severe delays. On the platform I saw a lot of people who hadn't gone anywhere, who'd been told to go home.
I've been stuck in airports before, but never that close to home. London-Ghent is about 300km. It took me 11 hours.
Still I feel very lucky. I got home. A lot of people didn't.
If you were at home following the news of cancelled flights and closed airports, consider yourself lucky.
I was supposed to go home by Eurostar. There was a slight worry last week when the British Eurostar crew announced a strike. That worry subsided when it was decided that the French and the Belgians would work instead.
But that was before the White Christmas decided to make a real effort this year.
On Saturday morning we found out that the Eurostar was broken. Apparently it froze when it came out of the tunnel.
Cat immediately bought me a backup flight, and I thought I could go down to St. Pancras on Sunday, check it out and if it wasn't happening, still head to Heathrow for the backup flight.
But an hour later United Airlines left Cat a message saying they'd cancelled the flight she just booked and they put me on a BMI flight earlier on Sunday morning. But I had to go to the UA desk first to pick up my new ticket.
Throughout the day it became very clear that travel was going to be chaos. Wherever you were planning to go, it wasn't going to be easy.
So on Sunday morning I decided to get to Heathrow early. I got there at 8am, and went straight to the UA desk. Terminal 1 was heaving. Check-in queues were looooong, and all around people were sitting on there luggage, looking at the departure screens, some of them crying, most of them on their mobiles.
The queue I was in wasn't that long. There were about 7 people ahead of me (I didn't count couples, as they would be served together). But it was United Airlines and their flight to Washington had just been cancelled, along with some other flights to the States. Most people in front of me were there to attempt to find an alternative way to get to their destination.
At 9.45am I had my new ticket. I felt enormously privileged, because most of the people around me would not be able to fly that day.
Check-in was quite fast, and so was security. The gate opened at 10.45 (half an hour before the flight), and everything still seemed fine.
But then a man came out of the double doors that led to the plane and said Brussels airport was closed because all three landing strips were covered in ice.
He said the plan was that Brussels would open again at 4pm, but because this plane couldn't just sit at that gate for so long, he suggested we board the plane immediately and wait on the plane. He thought we'd be on the plane for two hours before taking off. He gave us 10 minutes to decide.
This was weird. A group of people who didn't know each other had to come to a consensus about boarding or not boarding. I left and went to get some food just in case.
By the time I got back they'd decided not to board just yet. We'd board at 12.50, aiming to leave at 2pm, so we'd be landing at 4pm Brussels time.
I stayed at the gate. The departure hall was heaving with people who were not going anywhere for quite some time, and the gate was calmer.
At 12.45, the man came back and said we wouldn't be boarding after all. He sent us all back to the departure hall, telling us to keep an eye on the screens.
The screens kept saying 'Delayed until 12.50' - even though it was now later than that.
Suddenly, at 1.50pm, the screens read: 'Flight closing'. Me and quite a few other people ran back to the gate. We got on buses that drove us to the plane and by 2.45pm we took off.
I was in Brussels at 5pm local time. The arrivals hall looked spectacular: suitcases everywhere, every conveyor belt was full, and airport staff tried to clear luggage from previous flights off the belts to other areas of the hall. I didn't quite understand how all that luggage could have arrived without people, but that must all be from people who were on connecting flights and had gotten stuck halfway. The luggage must have been on another flight.
I was out by 5.30pm, and as I bought my train ticket, the man said all trains were suffering severe delays. On the platform I saw a lot of people who hadn't gone anywhere, who'd been told to go home.
I've been stuck in airports before, but never that close to home. London-Ghent is about 300km. It took me 11 hours.
Still I feel very lucky. I got home. A lot of people didn't.
Scratch over. Year over.
We have left London. Or at least I think we all did. The scratch nights were great fun, and we now can't wait to develop this further.
But, as I've explained to many people over the last two weeks: we have quite a few more shows to make before this one opens, so at the moment we are planning to do another week in June, and then maybe we find some more time before autumn 2011. Yes, you read that right. 2011. I will try and explain to you in a next post what is happening before autumn 2011. One thing's for sure: we're not taking a sabbatical.
This is what Katchka made of the reception room where the audience came in before the show started. Our collection of maps and mad hats and costumes.
Some people grabbed the pen and marked on the map where they had been. Between you and us, we didn't cover the world. So we'll have to work harder. You have until autumn 2011 to fill in the gaps we leave in our travels. I will definitely try to make an effort to fill in those gaps no one else seems to be willing to fill in.
Nils is telling the audience just how big the world is.
On Saturday, we came in at 11am to get some extra scenes into shape to present to the next audience. BAC is an enormous listed building with a lot of windows and single glazing. It gets cold in there...
The view from the Committee Room (the Old Bar)
After lunch we came back to BAC and found a few of the cast couldn't resist the urge to play Around the World in 80 days as a West End musical. So they had a go at it.
About 5 minutes in, Alex cut them off: it was too much to handle.
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