We Made It!

Whoever knew that one train journey could cause so much stress?

After sprinting along platforms with more than our own weight in luggage, fighting unresponsive ticket machines and struggling with lifts, I thought I could relax. How wrong I was; realising that I dropped my wallet at Manchester Piccadilly - with the tickets and rail cards for half our crew inside - I frantically phoned anyone and everyone who I thought could help. Finally, after running down carriages to fruitlessly look for the conductors, being cut off half way through crucial phone calls as a tunnels engulfed us and making a mini-drama for half the train to spy in on, I got news that my wallet had been found.

The next problem was convincing First Transpennine Express to let us stay on the train, despite our conspicuous lack of tickets. They seemed to accept the terrified look on my face as I explained to them our story, so I slumped back in my seat and finally allowed myself to breathe.

The wallet has since been recovered and I am in the process of gaining back what little respect I had from my peers before the incident.

The illusive wallet in question

Travel crisis aside, we have moved into our Pilrig flat and have made ourselves at home. As I write this, our actors are sleeping, leaving our production team (of which there are only two, but 'team' sounds more impressive) milling around, busying ourselves with whatever jobs we can find for ourselves.

Today we pick up our flyers, posters, final props and - according to our itinerary - 'acclimatise to Edinburgh'. It's not quite Tibet here, so I'm thinking our bodies are already fairly well adjusted to the atmosphere - my desperation for organisation must have ran away with me a little when I was writing that document.

Tomorrow, we get into our venue for the first time for a dress rehearsal, and Friday sees our Fringe stint begin.

Hard work begins as soon as the bleary-eyed rabble roll out of bed.