We headed down to Plymouth to see The Cat's production which was being put on at the Theatre Royal...she was assistant Director, and this part of a competition created by the National. There are 500 entrants given one of eight plays to put on...the top twelve get to perform at the National itself. The Cat's play was all about the traumas of adolescence, and there was a lot of paint being thrown around. Stunningly performed by a bunch of teenagers, we have our fingers crossed. We stayed in a grand place called Boringden Hall, which has the honour of playing host to Elizabeth 1st as well as Drake, Raleigh, and all those dubious sea-dogs that helped create our sea-faring reputation. We got to sleep in a four-poster
The next day we visited some of my oldest and dearest friends who moved south-west many years ago. They will soon be celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary...it hardly seems possible.
We spent Sunday at the London Marathon watching another of our friends wear themselves out...she did incredibly well with a time of 4.28 hours. It's become an annual ritual, and its great fun amongst the crowds chasing our runners around
The 23rd was spent at the cinema watching the live broadcast of the 400th birthday party of our greatest bard. More a focus on how he has influenced future generations of song, dance and writing than the great man's works, it was fun, but perhaps wouldn't get five stars from me...