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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBard Tour draws to a close
The enivtable draw of London, who would play host to our final run of shows, was the only factor that made leaving Hatton less of a miserable affair.
 We had 6 performances lined up at a variety of venues: The Rookery in Streatham Common, the Museum of the order of St John in Clerkenwell, and Chelsea Physic Garden in, surprise surprise, Chelsea.
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 The Rookery is a beautiful open space utilised by the local community who also manage it. We teamed up with the ‘Friends of Streatham Common’ who would take a split of the box office takings to raise money for this veritable gem.
 On the first day, I decided to take the reigns on navigation, which I would later regret. Whilst others would probably argue that we were "completely bloody lost" I would merely suggest that we took a longer route to avoid a busy road. Now it's not about who was right (it was me, it was definitely me), it's about the fact that we all arrived with ample time to spare in the beautiful gardens at The Rookery for our first London show.
 Following a misunderstanding that involved Tom AND myself booking a musician for that night, (another instance where I was probably in the right) we were fortunate enough to have Callum McSherry and Mather both sharing their musical abilities. Both artists were fantastic, young acoustic talents and continued to help us throughout our run in London.
 Now as it was now the beginning of September, the sun was beginning to set even earlier during our shows so we were skeptical on how our audience participation would play out as we couldn't see them! However, besides stepping on the odd pork pie, the show went off without a hitch and was well received by a terrific audience.
The next day, after a smoother journey to The Rookery we were joined by our beloved director James. After several HandleBards shows James has learnt to go all out with his picnics, but this day was something else. Lavish salads, butternut squash, proper cutlery and crockery and we even leant him an unused prop to use as a tablecloth. We also spotted our musical director Guy Hughes in attendance so we made sure our Glockenspiel skills were up to scratch. We always look back fondly at our time spent at The Rookery and these performances were no exception.
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 The Museum of the Order of St John (or as Calum likes to call it ‘The Museum of the Order of the Phoenix) played host to one of the earliest recorded performances of Hamlet.
It is hugely exhilarating to be performing the same show in the same building that the original cast may have performed at over 400 years ago.
 This fact added an extra-excited tension to the atmosphere as we set up in their beautiful Chapter House, being careful not to touch the ‘priceless antiques’ or even stare at them too hard lest we somehow cause damage.
 This excited tension was also mounting personally because my big sister, a lover and expert of theatre, would be seeing our rendition of ‘Hamlet’ for the first time.  
 It may come as a surprise that our rendition of Hamlet has a lot of subtly in its gags, which is amplified if you already are familiar with the text. These are well suited for an indoor setting and we took the opportunity to really play on all the comic moments knowing nothing would be lost to the sound of the outdoors.
 It was a privilege to perform in such a beautiful venue, and I was personally overjoyed when my sister told me it was the best year for the HandleBards to date. For a company that strives to be bigger and better each year, there is no higher praise.
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 The day of our final show came and Matt (taking the position of social secretary) had organised a night of celebrations for us and our audience to attend post show.  
 As we were back down south and it was later in the year, Paul had organised a line of stage lights, which Tom and I covered in offcuts of flowers from local vendors.
All in all, it looked very picturesque, and also very apt for our final performances of The Dream where flowers feature heavily.
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 The walled gardens of Chelsea physic Garden is the second oldest botanical garden in Britain founded in 1673.  Whilst being in the centre of London once you have stepped threw its gates you are in a mini rural world which emphases the importance of botany.  It was the perfect place for an outdoor sustainable theatre company to finish their 60+ venue run.
 As it was our final show and the garden had reached its capacity of audience members, we had all gone to town:
 I had spotted Paul wandering through the grounds carrying a ladder with the ‘YORICK’ skull on his head, and a mischievous glint in his eye. What he was doing became apparent as audience members filed in passing the Statue of Sir Hans Sloane famous physician and owner of the garden.
 Usually Sir Hans Sloane’s statue can be seen head turned towards an outstretched right hand, but this evening, he was depicted staring towards a hand which now had Yorick’s skull made from a bicycle helmet nestling in it.
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 Callum McSherry was back and playing to all, offering his CD’s at a donation price and wandering about the audience kicking the evening off as a very informal HandleBard affair.
 The venue had agreed free Beefeater gin for all audience members, and these were served in quantities that would please the average Londoner. I.e., ‘would you like some tonic with your gin madam?’
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I had taken extra care over my beloved merchandise table, our recycled mobiles where handing from it and the parasol above at equidistant intervals, whilst the last of our mugs, bags, and clothing was laid with painstaking precision across it. Who couldn’t be won over with such devoted presentation?
 Tom, Calum, Matt, and myself had ensured ironed shirts, clean socks, proper 1930’s hairstyles and an essential Beroca each (its your but on a really good day.) My tash, which I love but my girlfriend had made me promise to shave off the next day, was pointed and curled to perfection as if it new its time was coming to an end.
 This was going to be our most heart felt, energised performance, as we were determined to go out with a bang.
 The show itself flew by.  What with it being later in the year and having lights shining on us we could not see our audience, but it is true that you can feel the energy of an audience, and this show made for a wonderful sensation. Everything just seemed to go right, everyone in the audience was there to have a great time, and we finished our run to a very happy audience.
 We could not finish this three-month extravaganza without saying a few well-earned thank yous. Up on stage we presented our Directors Emma Sampson and James Farrell and Assistant Director Stanley Walton with gifts that we had kept hidden back stage all show
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 Bowing and running upstairs we were met with a surprise, at the back of the room in a line where 4 bottles of champagne with a named card propped up against them.
 Somehow Paul had managed to get up stairs before us, and as we packed away our set for the final time that summer, we each drank our own personal Bubbly curtsey of Paul…
 …It is safe to say, that we will probably need to repack when 100% sober.
 The evening ended with us chatting and dancing the night away at ‘Doodle Bar’ with a large chunk of our audience enjoying the last few weeks of our warm summer nights.  
 Thank you to everyone who has made this tour so enjoyable for us over the last three months. It has been tough at times, but entirely worth it.
 Until next summer when the HandleBards, and all new female troupe the HandleBardettes, shall be touring the length of the UK again.
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Producer & Tour Manger: Paul Moss
Cast: Matthew Seager, Calum Hughes-McIntosh, Callum Brodie, Tom Dixon
Director ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’: James Farrell
Co Director’s ‘Hamlet’: Emma Sampson & James Farrell
Assistant Director: Stanley Walton
Designer: Nik Corrall
Fight Director: Tom Jordan
Structural and mechanical Design: Mike potter & Electric Pedals
Voice Coach: Michael Corbridge
Movement Coach: Gary Sefton
Musical Composition: Guy Hughes
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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBards last week in Scotland.
When we arrived at Cambo estate in St Andrew I took care to pack away anything of any value as ‘Robo Jimmy,’ the robotic lawnmower with a life of his own, had managed to eat my I-Phone the previous year.
 Entering the gardens, scowling at Robo Jimmy as he passed us by, we set the stage under a massive oak tree that sits near the house whilst our audience, wrapped up ready for a show in slightly inclement weather, gathered close around.
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 Struan and his wife had recently taken over managing the estate, and took the opportunity to welcome us by inviting us over for a post show dinner. We were then ushered to what is possibly our most lavish bedroom of all time:
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 The estates main drawing room: equipped with beautiful furniture, period art, vases, and tapestries. I love the juxtaposition of this photo as it clearly depicts the lavish drawing room, which within minutes has sadly turned into a HandleBard bombsite full of sleeping bags, panniers, our smelly clothes, and a lot of long socks
 Calum has made the apt observation that Matt, when making a space his own, leaves a room as if he has 'disapparated' from it. No Matt can be found, but his trousers, shoes, inside out shirts, and socks can be found Struan across the room as if a human had occupied them a few seconds earlier, and then vanished into thin air leaving his clothes behind.  
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 Gathering all our belonging the next day, reaching under the chaise longue for that last long sock which mischievous tried to elude us, we headed off to be reunited with the HMS Unicorn. This Frigate, who’s intimate spacing aboard the last intact warship from 1824 in the world, always makes for a very enjoyable show.
 Having raved to Matt and Calum about us drinking rum and playing poker on the haunted decks last year, we pulled up some chairs that evening and with some Sailor Jerry rum quaffed the night away.
 Whilst we didn’t have any cards, we quickly took the opportunity to amuse ourselves by hiding in the shadowy corners of the ship and jumping out at Matt at every opportunity. This may have accounted for him going to bed early whilst also keeping the lights on.
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 Coupar Angus marks the most northern part of our cycling Tour. When we arrived we met up with John and Wendy who had organised the event, and were gratified that a large chunk of the town came out to see us perform in their main square.
 Coupar Angus is not a big town, which is probably why there is a real sense of community and festivity around the event and we really enjoyed ourselves. As we packed up, the younger generation of the town showed their prowess on their bikes by doing an assortment of tricks. They automatically assumed, us being a cycling company, that we would be as proficient as them with wheelies and jumps. So not to loose face we hinted that, ‘yes would love to join in doing some of those highly dangerous things you are doing’, but sadly could not at this time as we had ‘so much packing up to do.’ Oh what a shame.
 I was thankful to leave without a broken leg.
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 Hatton Castle: the perfect venue to finish our National tour before heading back for a London run.
 Yes the HandleBards would be performing here, yes our shows are usually considered the reason for audiences to coming, but at this venue our shows would only account for 50% of the overall entertainment.
 At Hatton Castle, your whole time there is one big event: There would be a Ceilidh, there would be dancing, there would be whiskey Macs around a fire in a homemade alcove whilst people recited jokes, (probably dirty ones.)
 When you perform in Hatton Castle you step into a world that is truly, and joyfully, Scottish, and we love it.
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 As we arrived we met Mike, Patsy, and their cows that seem to guard the entrance of the Castle like bovine soldiers. Navigating our trailers around these grass-eating beasts (I am talking about the cows) we started to set up for Hamlet…
 …And everything went wrong.
 We had arranged that in this performance during the most famous of Hamlet’s speeches ‘To Be or Not to Be’ the backdrop would be ripped down by a falling Polonius, played by Tom, which in turn would expose Matt behind stage as he was adding Talc powder to our Ghost. Tom would fall into Matt and I, as Ophelia, would rush to help. However as Matt picks Tom up, Tom would grab the bottle of Talc Power and during this action the bottle would get thrown over me.
 Great in Theory, Hell in practice. The Talc exploded across half my face which hitting the perspiration, promptly stuck. Trying to brush it off merely turned it into a small paste, which almost glued my left eye shut.
 Add this to the fact we kept having to hid the fact we were burping due to some dodgy food we had stopped for at lunch, that the line keeping our set up kept threatening to fall down, and that we were corpsing at how silly I looked (especially as I had waxed by tash to be pointed at the ends, and which was now bright white), and you have one ridiculous performance.
 Luckily our audience loved it: they were fully in the mood for things to go ‘a -gley’ and in this respect were not disappointed. A massive round of applause deafened our ears at the end, and the evening quickly descended into the night of revelry we had come to expect from Hatton.
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handlebards · 9 years
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What is the Big Secret?
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Our Secret shows kicked off our run in Edinburgh.
 Our audience signed up to see us having no idea what Shakespearean show they would see or where they would see it. They instead would meet us at Bedlam Theatre who we had teamed up with, and cycle with the Bards 5 miles to one of our ‘Secret Location.’
 We tried to pick locations that were suitable to the plays we had chosen. So on the first day, when audience members arrived having traveled on road bikes, mountain bikes and even tandem bikes that had been lent to us from bike hire company ‘MyAdventure’, they rolled up the driveway to Lauriston Castle.
 Walking to our set situated at the back of the castle overlooking the River Forth and Cramond Island, audience members with Pimms in hand, an overflowing paper bag of candy per group, were greeted by the swing cat trio playing their swing in full force.
 After everyone had arrived and were settled we asked if anyone could guess, from our location, which show we were due to perform. We struck lucky on the third attempt: being next to the River Forth, ‘The Comedy of Error’s’ was suggested which starts with a tale of two sets of identical twins being separated at sea as babies.
 It had been a long time since we had had the joy of performing this show in front of an audience. It was a real treat for our producer Paul Moss, who whilst cycling with us doing all the admin of production, and a lot of the stage management, had not tread the boards (or grass) for months.
 Quickly his outrageous rendition of Luciana came back to the surface, which everyone found most entertaining, especially Paul himself.
 As the performance ended the most beautiful of sunsets blazed behind the audience and we invited everyone, (before they hopped on a coach which was waiting to take them back to the centre of town,) to come and enjoy it with us.
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 The next day we were straight in with our second ‘Secret show.’ This time the audience members who had been split into groups and assigned a Hi - Vis jacket to accompany that group, found that on the back were names such as ‘Demetrius,’ ‘Juliet.’ and ‘Prospero.’
Yes each group was in fact a Shakespearean classic and their riders characters from them. For the more Shak-Savvy there were some curve ball characters such as ‘Philostrate’ and ‘Tilly-Valley,’ and we were impressed by how many people knew who they were.
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 Having set up, I guarded the set for 3 hours from the fierce wind that threatened to knock our tents over every few minutes until the audience arrived
 This time they came to Craigmillar Castle, which has one awesome view from its battlements, but also has one of those swing gates found on footpaths which only allows one person through at a time.
 Excited for the audience to enter the grounds of the castle to witness the rather dramatic atmosphere we had created by setting up our tent and blankets in the centre of the Castles Courtyard, we quickly ushered them though the swing gate, whilst the rest of the Bards frantically wrestled with all the hire bikes, lifting them over the gate and storing them safely.
 As audience members entered the courtyard they were once again serenaded to the fabulous swing cat trio, offered refreshments, a big bag of sweets, and a tartan rug of their very own. We joined them a few minutes later, trying not to look sweaty from all the bike lifting.
 Tartan rug, centre of a Castle, Scotland? Yes that’s right, we were performing ‘Macbeth…’
 … Cue Paul Moss’s show stealing Lady Macbeth.
 Overjoyed to be doing one of our favourite shows again, covered in beans and soup which depicts blood, 4 HandleBards grinning ear to ear took their bow.
 As our audience was driven back to the centre in their coach, we took the moment to head up to the battlements and look over the sights of Edinburgh and beyond. This was one of my favourite days.
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 No rest for the wicked though! They next day we were in the royal Botanical Gardens setting up for the Dream and praying the sun would come out.
This is Scotland though, and a little bit of rain does not, ha-ha, dampen anyone’s spirits. This is especially the case if they are drinking some, which all our audience members were having purchased some local drinks from the gardens itself.
 Some people may have felt a little Shakespeare out having performed 3 different shows in 3 days however we strove to perform Hamlet the next day.
4 different shows over 4 days meant that we performed around 21 characters each, the equivalent of knowing an entire Shakespearean play per performer.
 I may never have such an extensive contract again:
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  After two joyous weeks of performances, we had to say farewell to the fringe and move further north.
 However we could not end this post without mentioning some of the wonderful Shakespearean work we witnessed.
 Miss Emma Bentley’s ‘To She or Not to She’ is a one-woman show focused on the theatre industry and the way it deals with women. Cleverly analysed, whilst hilarious its message is a poignant one, and I am sure we shall be seeing more intelligent and needed work from this performer.
 The Smooth Faced Gents were also up at the fringe with Othello and Titus.
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 We have worked with this all female Shakespearean company in the past and were excited to have other super Shakespearean geeks to go watch plays with.
Their work is highly visual, dynamic and creative, and we highly recommend seeing their shows which have received 5* reviews from Broadway Baby, Edinburgh Evening News, Cade Babel and the Edinburgh Festival Magazine.
 All in all, what with performing, relaxing, dancing, watching circus, theatre and comedy, the fringe was an absolute Blast.
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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBards cycle to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival
As we arrived at the Kalzie gardens (stopping at a whiskey shop en route to make some purchases with our new found knowledge) we found Lady Angela had been busy getting the gardens ready for the performance.
 Outside the wall ran 4 large gazebos capable of housing our entire audience, a female A cappella troupe had been organised for the pre show entertainment, and a dinner had been prepared for after.
 Feeling rather pampered we hit the hay in an annex located in the wood just beside the gardens so we would be fresh as daisy for New Lanark.
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 Nothing unsurprising happened during our performance of ‘The Dream’ at New Lanark. By this point we must have performed this show around 25 times or more and our organisation was therefore flawless. There is no way that 15 mins into our performance we realised we had forgotten Bottoms head, leaving it instead in a locked room at our hostel.
 Most props, set and costume we could compensate for, however this single prop is probably the most essential item of costume for the entire play and needs to make an appearance before the interval… Bum.
 Dressed as a fairy, having been thwacked in the face with a straw hat for singing badly, I did not run offstage as I was meant to. I instead ran to our venue manager whose look of enjoyment froze as she saw me approaching at speed.
 After a hurried whispered conversation where I asked her to enter our bomb site of a bedroom to look for a donkeys head made from the parts of a bicycle and fragments of a tea strainer which could be found in a ‘pannier’ (which is a green bag that clips onto the side of a bike,) Oh yes and we don’t have the key on us so you have to convince the duty manager to let you in…AND PLEASE HURRY, she obliged.
 8 mins later we saw her approach a near by tree and place the miraculous donkeys head behind it. Breathing a sigh of relief Matt grabbed it just before his first entrance as the transformed Bottom.
 We learnt two things from this experience:
1)   Double, triple, and quadruple check your props
2)   Be sure to check the strictness of the Duty manager in your hostel, because it should not have been that easy to enter our room.
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 We woke next moment with excitement in our theatre-crazed hearts: we were heading into our most anticipated part of the tour yet, we were heading to the Edinburgh Fringe festival.
 The festival had been underway for two weeks and our excitement had mounted as reviews for every show had come into circulation and we were desperate to book tickets.
 Matt had already booked everyone tickets for Complicite’s  ‘The Encounter’ performed by the legendary Simon McBurney. Two hours of exquisite narration on photographer Loren McIntyre who, in 1969, found himself lost with a tribe in the Javari Valley. His performance and ability to transform 300+ audience members to a foreign land warranted a standing ovation from all 4 HandleBards including every audience member in the room.
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 Other shows of note includes Tom’s personal favourite ‘Captain Morgan and the Sea of Souls.’ A show written by Ben Behrens which captures the entire world of Captain Morgan without set or props, but by the ingenious creativity of two performers playing all the characters, and one musician for all sound effects. It was riotously funny and encapsulating.
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 Paul’s favourite performance of  ‘Barbu’ was more of an event than a normal show: a world of bizarre but hilarious sketches, which the audience had agreed to be a part of as soon as they entered the building.
 It was performed by a troupe of highly talented, and magnificently bearded, circus performers (see below).  If it could be described in one word, the word is probably too indecent for me to write here. Defiantly a show worth seeing.
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 Calum's favourite performance was from comedian and one-man show: Joseph Morpurgo ‘Soothing Sounds for Baby.’
 Whilst none of the other Bards saw this show we find we are not in a position to comment on it. However the Times wrote ‘ Acclaimed multimedia comic returns with an outlandishly funny new hour of excavated vinyl and throttled hyperkonzept.’ I am still none the wiser, but it sounds impressive never the less.
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 My personal favourite show was one I did not originally mean to see. Walking through the streets of the Edinburgh I bumped into our production assistant from last year’s tour ‘Teddy’ who was off to see a show called ‘Tran Scripts.’
 Paul Lucas’s verbatim performance drew on more than 75 interviews with trans gender women, which in turn were condensed into 6 stories. Individual performers told these stories at first as monologues, but as the show progressed these monologues turned into a mutli-layered conversation of experience, ideals and troubles between all the performances and the audience.
 Beautifully written, beautifully performed, I was amazed to find my favorite piece of theatre was actually one that was moving and current, rather than my usual bent of absurdist comedy.
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 After each day we would come back to the luxury of our rented apartment on ‘Scotland Street,’ a road name chosen for ease just incase any HandleBard forgot where they were staying.
 Amazingly this apartment housed enough bedrooms for all the HandleBards to have their own room. After two months of living in each other’s pockets this much space apparently made us feel subconsciously uneasy, as we lost no time in offering floor and bed space to every friend under the sun. There were many evenings when I would stroll in and be greeted by a bunch of ‘friends’ I had never met before in my life, but who I would now be sharing a room with.
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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBards cross the border
Northumberland Hospice care, here we come with long socks on.
 Northumberland Hospice do great work and each year we are proud to partner up with them.
 This year the wonderful Rebecca and her hospice team had organised three different locations for the HandleBards to perform at: Whalton Manor, Felton Park, and Ford Castle.
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 Whalton Manor is truly breathtaking. Imagine a home that has the floor plan of a mansion, but is housed in what appears to be an elegant and welcoming cottage. Add some sprawling fields to accompany it where the ponies and two rather lovely dogs live, and that is Whalton Manor.
 The last few years we have always taken the opportunity to have a bath in its vintage brass bathroom, which is absolutely charming, and also very very necessary.
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 Our final performance at Ford Castle was a night to remember. It is a grade 1 listed building built in 1278, and now functions as a school. It also was our final English venue before we head across the border!
 Last year we were privileged to perform to an audience of around 250, and this year was even better with 300+.
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We were happy to see a couple from last year with a fully ladened table of cheeses, pickles, grapes pork pies, a supply of rather fine wine, and a candelabra.
 It was the Candelabra, which first caught our eye, and we applaud the couple that brought it. What are the HandleBards if not an excuse for pure eccentric and joyous behaviour, and we were glad people felt they could make a day of our event.
 A fantastic troupe of Shakespearian performers called the ‘ Three Inch Fools’ came to see us before our two companies embarked on ‘The Battle of the Bards’ on the following day.
 This battle of camaraderie involved our companies going head to head with two different plays on the same day at the same time in two outdoor locations. 
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 For the HandleBards this was at Bow Hill House our first Scottish venue of the Tour. We were performing ‘Hamlet,’ whilst the ‘Three Inch Fools’ performed the ‘Tempest.’  
 Apart from the obvious peacocking of two companies showing off their creation of set, costume and character, we soon realised we had not set any defining rule that meant one company would win.
 The outcome therefore was a large amount of love for the Bard, which created a lot of entertainment for our audiences and applause from them, but ultimately left everyone bemused as to which company come out on top.
 I feel the results were: The HandleBards 0, The Three Inch Fools 0, and Shakespeare 2.
 We loved working with the ‘Three Inch Fools’ and encourage everyone to witness their ingenious take on the Bards classics.
 That evening Calum and Kirsty Flanders took us in for the night. A once in a life time experience that ensued for a second time as Calum very generously insisted that our first night in Scotland could not occur without a whiskey tasting of finest malts.
 As the night progressed and our minds were filled with knowledge whilst our mouths were filled with alcohol, Calum also showed us his expertise in joining and carving.
 We were amazed to find out that every date in the year has a wood assigned to it. A person therefore has their own birthwood, which has an assembly of meaning and history attached to it. After showing us a beautiful selection of home carved wooden pens nestled in a home carved wooden box, we were touched that Calum gave us each our birth wood pen.
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 I (Brodie) was given Holly: The ruler - a wood of masculinity (not a snigger was heard) and everlasting love.
Tom was given a pen of Rowan: The thinker – the wood of the keen minded visionary.
Matt was given a pen of Birch: The achiever – the wood of leadership and drive.
Calum was given a pen of Oak: The stabiliser – wood of strength and of the confidence
 Last year we entered into a whiskey coma by the end of the evening so this year, knowing that we would have to cycle 30 miles to Kailzie Garden the next day, we were all excessively careful and very very, almost painfully, responsible.
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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBards experience some creature comforts
In the morning we had to make a difficult decision. My lower abdominals were still in pain and Paul’s knee had caused him some considerable trouble the day before. Should we go ahead and cause possible permanent damage to ourselves, or do we call on support for the first time ever?
 Cycling from Bolton Castle to Durham was going to be 50 miles of pain, over a path that would skirt the Yorkshire dales and some severely difficult terrain. With this in mind, and following my doctor’s advice, for this trip Paul and myself had to call a man with a van.
 Sad to be missing the beautiful cycle, and waving farewell to our other Bards we set off to Durham. One of our most highly anticipated cafes  for breakfast is ‘ The Mill Race Teashop,’ located in Leyburn. They serve a coffee breakfast, a breakfast roll, and a supply of pastries that can see any cyclist over the hardest of cycles.
 It has become a tradition for the Bards to eat here before tackling both a 25% and a 16% gradient hill. Whilst it was sensible for Paul and myself not to force our bodies over the hardest cycle of the tour, it also meant we would be missing this most fantastic of all breakfasts and some exquisite scenery.
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 Arriving in Durham 4 hours before the other HandleBards, Paul and myself were aware of a HandleBard void in our beings, which the other Bards normally filled.
At a slight loss of what to do without our colleges, and also a lot more energetic and a lot less sweaty than normal, we took the opportunity to get our heads down to some important work. We in no way shape of form put our feet up and sent pictures of us relaxing to our fellow collogues as they were struggling and panting over hills.
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 We would have three days in Durham to recover, and both Paul and myself kept our fingers crossed that it would be enough time to heal.
 Crook Hall has become a regular HandleBard jaunt, however this year they threw something new at us:
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 This café, and its surrounding vegetation, had been erected during our brief time away. Not only was it a beautiful addition to the gardens, offering a wide selection of drinks and treats (and the chance to purchase a mug which had the image of Mr. Darcy adorning it,) but it also housed a lavish flat above the café.
 The best part of this was that for three nights the flat was ours. This is the first time in the last couple of months that any of us had experienced anything remotely like a normal home. It was bliss.
 We cooked mass meals, we bought a local Durham Gin, limes, and fever tree tonic to go with it, and did all our costume mending perched on the balcony that over looks the River Wear.
 Feeling refreshed we took to the streets of Durham which always has a wonderful supply of buskers to find a local musician for that evenings performance.
 We struck lucky within 20 minutes with sixteen-year-old Joe who was confidently signing and playing guitar outside the ‘Flat White’ café.  
 His confidence at playing made him stick and we asked him to join us for our performance. His ease at performing in front of the people of Durham was so much so that it came as a surprise that our evening’s performance was the first proper audience he had ever played to in his life. And he nailed it.
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The next few days passed rather easily and Paul took the opportunity to show us the sights of Durham having been a student at the University 3 years ago including the famous ‘black staircase’ in Durham’s Castle, which was constructed in the late seventeenth century as a flying staircase with no vertical supports. However due to several miscalculations this staircase in now held up by several columns that had to be added, and in fact sags in the middle. To top it all, unrecognizable pineapples (which were considered a luxury and a show of wealth) adorned the balustrades of the staircase. They are unrecognizable not by choice but because they were carved by a man who had never seen one in his life, but took a good stab at guessing none the less.
Cycling further North a few days later, buoyed up by the 5* reviews we had received from The Sunderland Echo  (thank you) we threw all our mildly manic energy into our performance at Gainsborough Forest (where we slept on an abandoned train carriage after taking over an hour to lite a take away BBQ) and at Raby Castle (Where we slept in a wooden pod, a sort of bird house for humans.)
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Saturday 8th August came and the Bard’s cycled triumphantly into the beautiful architecture that is Newcastle. Our stop was to be the Cycle Hub situated in Ouseburn and which had been recently renovated, but luckily still served the bacon rolls which we have come to love and need after a long cycle.
After our performance audience members took us to ‘The Tyne Bar’, which is just around the corner from the Cycle Hub.
 This pub is worth a visit for anyone! Not only did they serve an array of local and international ales that we had never even heard of before (which is hard to do,) but in every possible location of this establishment people were dancing as if there was no tomorrow. Newcastle has a wonderful cultural scene that I encourage everyone to get involved with it.
There was only one downside, and it wasn’t even a fault of Newcastle. It just so happened that it was here that the Bards decided to treat themselves by watching a film with their limited time off. They chose the new Fantastic Four Film. It was unanimously agreed afterwards, that they wished they hadn’t.
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Calum is beckoning the sun gods for tonight's Secret Shakespeare Show..
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The HandleBards - 70% prepared for any eventuality
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The HandleBards have always liked the sound of travelling everywhere by boat, possibly renaming themselves the 'HandleBarge,' and were incredibly excited to be heading to Marsden for a performance of 'Hamlet,' where we would meet the well established 'Mikron theatre' who travel the UK by riverboat.
After a cycle via a towpath which was beautiful to the eye and absolute hell on the legs (the road kept running out every half mile forcing us to get off the bikes and push our immovable travels up the hill) we reached our destination and were met by Mikron's producer Pete. Pete presented us with food and drink and this simple act let us instinctively know that he was a good egg. (For me there is no higher form of praise, especially when starving) 
Mikron theatre have been running for over 40 years and always write their shows which incorporates live singing and music within the story telling. They are a fan of inventive forms of performance and made for a very warm HandleBard reception, understanding our style immediately and getting involved.
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For those who have seen our performances you know there is a line that runs between two horizontal bikes wheels, which rotates In a loop when someone cycles. One scene of Hamlet utilises this line to bring the ghost on stage (in this case our ghost Is a colander with some mosquito netting attached which is suspended from the line.) It is ridiculous, it is silly, and on this particular night, it did not work.
The line hit the deck, and after a moments pause when I realised trying to fix the problem would take too long, I had no choice but to run from the bike and place the colander on my head.
Walking up and down my mind raced as I desperately tried to remember what the cues for this ghosts movements would be. However I needn't have worried, the very fact we all continued as if nothing had happened, and that I was wearing a colander on my head when I clearly was not meant to be, was enough to have the audience laughing along at the situation.
In my heart of hearts, I hope the line breaks down again so I get another go at it, as watching my fellow cast members trying to keep a straight face was priceless.
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Being in Marsden with our highest UK destination being Dundee we had a lot of ground to cover. Taking note of our experience with the tow-path, we stuck to the less attractive but well paved a-roads, peddling as fast as we could North.
At one point, trailers In tow, an actual cycle path appeared next to the A road. This is a very unusual occurrence as normally cyclists are expected to cycle on the hard shoulder and alarmingly close to the passing traffic (who are going at 70 mph.) We increased our speed, and pulling the trailers, feeling rather cool at how easy the hills were feeling that day, I noticed the path getting narrower ahead of me. I wasn't too concerned though, it was only narrow because of some foliage that had overgrown onto the path, and I was sure that my speed, and combined weight of bike panniers and trailer, would mean I could push past the obstacle easily...
... I was wrong. The foliage was much denser than I expected, and as a result I ended up cycling at speed head first into a bush. Physics took over: the bike stopped, I did not. Flying head first into the bush (and groin first into the handlebars) I experienced an intense rush of pain and a large sense of embarrassment. However a crashing sound made me look up to see Tom, whose head was turned over his shoulder to look back at me and was no longer looking at the road, had hit the curb of the cycle path with his trailer's back wheel.  Once again physics took over: his trailer flipped onto its side, and as 4 upright wheels suddenly became the 2 wheels of his bike and and side of the trailer, his bike was pulled down and Tom hit the road.
Both of us were picked off our bikes by the other Bards, sat down on the side of the road, and forced to eat comforting jelly babies whilst we tried (and rather unconvincingly) to make vocal protestations that we were fine. Thankfully nothing was injured other than our pride. 
We were now entering the territory of where our producer, Paul Moss, was born and raised (in the playground is where he spent most of his days.) After our performances at Ordsall Hall, Rufford Old Hall and Houghton Tower where we were joined in full force by the Eagley Brass Band, all 5 of us were treated to the generosity of the Moss Household. We are truly thankful to them for feeding, watering, and managing to find beds for all of us. Most notability they gave us the opportunity to wash our show socks. Calum Hughes-McIntosh never knew how much joy freshly laundered show socks could bring a man, but when they were presented to him he almost wept for joy.
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Soon we reached Hardcastle Crags at Hebden Bridge which is swiftly becoming a favourite location for the Bards. Hebden Bridge has a higher density of independent shops than anywhere in the UK, and there is a real eccentric feeling to the place. Along with the standard butchers and bakers, you can find a dog cafe, a converted Mill full of vintage shops which generates its entire buildings electricity by means of an Archimedes screw, 8 independent coffee shop side by side, and every type of busker you could hope for.
Treated to a bunk house to sleep in which is located next to our National Trust venue 'Hardcastle Crags,' we went about setting up the stage in high spirits. Reunited with the Swingcat Trio, one of the funkiest and stylish bands we play with, we experienced a wonderful audience turn out who found the pre show music as infectious and fun as we did.
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Matt's dad Pete came to join us, and accompanied us up and out of Hebden Bridge via the longest uphill road in the UK before turning his bike around and heading back home once we had reached its summit. Pete added needed wind protection, and as the trailers fell behind the slip stream his bike created, it helped us get up the ascent much quicker than usual. This was great because the HandleBards could be said to be 70% ready for any occurrence: This is a cycling tour, this is England, there are 5 of us, and yet we only have two anoraks. So any additional speed Pete added to our journey was ace, especially as it was raining and we were on a hill with no wind protection, and wearing jumpers made of wool which we can now confirm are in no way waterproof. 
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Ladies and gentlemen this is the 'No hills Dance' which was created organically and spontaneously by our very own Mathew Seager on hearing that the gradient for the remaining 10 miles that day would be entirely downhill. 
 A possible reason for such joyous dancing (he's all legs and arms isn't he,) is that the HandleBards have finally reached their 'weight before breakage capacity,' and no hills is a thing worth celebrating. The previous years have always been a struggle, but with a larger set and more props than ever before we are all feeling the strain. For two of our HandleBard’s old knee injuries have started to play up, whilst our merchandise trailer gave up completely braking apart dramatically and without warning.
 Everything is a learning opportunity; so the next time we were able to stop we would have a massive cull whilst making the mental note for next year's tour that there is a lot to be said for comedy within a minimalist setting. 
 When we eventually arrived at Nottingham castle we were greeted by David who is one of the best spokespersons a venue could have. Pulling into the grounds, a little weary from the journey, we suddenly heard the voice of a man behind us who could have given Brian blessed a run for his money as he bellow the words 'Welcome to Nottingham dear HandleBards!'.
 No matter how tired a person is, they could not help but smile to be greeted by such a man as David, who instantly asked us how the journey had been and began to cheerfully tell us the history of the area in his strong baritone voice. Strangely perked up by this encounter we went about setting the up the stage for 'Hamlet.'
 Our director Emma Sampson would be joining us as would Malc Evans for his final gig with us. Even though this was a new venue the turn out was staggering, over 200 people turned up and as they spread out around our stage In a massive semi circle, we have to work extra hard to ensure everyone could see and hear us. 
 As Emma had not seen us since our London preview we were apprehensive of how she and Horatia, her seven week old girl, would find the performance. Horatia, I am glad to say, is an absolute fan. She gurgled and slept her way through the entire performance, waking up now and then to giggle or unblinkingly stare at the audience members closest to her, and I think I am right in taking that as a massive stamp of approval. 
 Emma also seemed to think we had done a good job, telling us she would email necessary notes in the next few days so we can make needed adjustments to our performances to improve them. (Fingers crossed the notes are forgiving.) 
 It is always fun to perform In Newark castle where after three years we feel we have a little HandleBard following who are always ready to laugh and get involved. Whilst clearing the set away post show, I looked up and saw a couple who I instantly recognised even though they had never seem us before.
 In our first year of touring we performed 'Romeo and Juliet' in Coventry and the next day joined 100's of cyclists who peddled behind a massive bike powered statue of Lady Godiva. Whilst sitting patiently to begin I saw a couple In matching clothing and on matching tricycles. None of us had seen these tricycle before, so I surreptitiously took a photo and uploaded it to Facebook because I thought they were cool. 
 Suddenly two years later this couple and their tricycles were in front of me with no idea we had seen them before in a location 63 miles away from Newark. Now most people may not have walked up to two strangers to tell them a few years previously they had taken a photo of them without their knowledge, however I was instantly intrigued as to how they had heard about us and who they were. I also wanted another photo, but obviously this time with my involvement and their consent.
 It turned out that they travel the world to various cycling events and two weeks previous their daughter had come to see us and enforced her parents on an outing to our show. I was obviously overjoyed that they had come with their tricycles and we are sure we shall all meet again on next year's tour. 
 Another new venue for this year was the stunning Newstead Abbey. If anyone reading this blog wishes to buy the HandleBards a Augustinian priory that was converted into a domestic home following the dissolution of the monasteries in 1537, then Newstead abbey is the one for us. 
 Our tour manager Paul Moss was wise enough not to tell any of us that the Stage would be reviewing our 'Midsummer Night's Dream' that night until after the show. On hearing this information from a grinning Paul we all started dissecting the play in our minds to check it ran well. Happily, and also the reason for Paul's smile, it had been a very good performance and a great audience. The next day the review was published calling us 'Gloriously eccentric and very, very funny Shakespearean Tomfoolery ' and giving the show 4 stars. If you wish to read the review a link to it can be found HERE. www.thestage.co.uk/reviews/2015/midsummer-nights-dream-4/ 
 Before each cycle we eat a lot of food which is necessary especially as we recently found out we burn over 2000 calories on our average 30 mile cycle. Whilst food is plentifully in many locations it cannot always be classified as 'healthy.' There is a lot of full English breakfasts in the morning washed down with a large mug of coffee, which does indeed get a person thorough an uphill cycle, but has the side effect of giving a person gout. 
 Ok 'gout' maybe an exaggeration, but by week 4 of this diet, our bodies digestive systems were doing some interesting things. Being 5 young men there is potential for a small amount of 'scatological banter' to be flung between us In such circumstances. None of this 'banter' shall I repeat on here, but this mind set lead us to jump to certain false conclusions when we had our first puncture on the way to Sheffield... 
 ... Whilst cycling one of our trailers became incredibly slow, on closer inspection we found a pin had gone through the wheel and punctured the inner-tubing.  Whilst fixing the problem we all noticed a rather awful smell, being used to such occurrences we continued on the task I'm hand without voicing the observation, but the smell persisted and became so overwhelming that one of us said 'seriously whoever keeps doing that could you stop or go and stand over there.'
 When none of us owned up we noticed that we had broken down next to a huge pile of manure used for farming (but of course). It was a wake up call that our diet had to drastically change if we could brake down next to a ton of manure and assume it's persistent aroma could be created by a living person. 
Safe to say the Bards are now on a healthy diet on nuts, grain and boiled water overseen by Tom.
 As always Sheffield was a hoot and incredibly generous. We were joined again by the charming Jackalopes Tale As everyone squeezed into recycled bikes to watch 'Hamlet' on Friday, and on Saturday over 500 people joined us at its amphitheatre to watch 'Midsummer.' 
 On Saturday it was also my (Brodie) 26th Birthday, and at the end of the show I was presented with a chocolate cake baked by Kim from the friends of sheaf valley as the audience sung happy birthday. 
Stanley our assistant director had also come and kindly brought me a fabulous bottle of whiskey which we shared before dancing that evening In a cocktail bar. The last three birthdays I have spent with the HandleBards, but this year had to be the best yet. 
Thank you too Sheffield for such a wonderful welcome into the scarily grown up years that are my late twenties. Thank you also to the Bards for providing me with a gentlemen's razor and tash wax, and my parents for the three outrageously flamboyant shirts. My traveling player look is almost complete (but if someone wants to get me Newstead Abbey I am fine with that too)
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The HandleBards - The Promised Land
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The greeting we received at our next venue was pretty standard, and included a mass water pistol fight, an outdoor picnic where a robin stole our scrambled eggs, and a vast selection of wigs that must be worn at all times whilst playing sardines in the dark: yes that's right, we must be staying with Sonya and Peony at the Courts Garden.
 We love the HandleBards ‘family’ that has grown over the years, and returning back to Sonya in the Courts was like being reunited with a long lost friend at our 6th home. Sonya runs a gallery from her house for independent artists called ‘Gallery Beautiful’, so when Calum Hughes McIntosh turned 24, we sung him happy birthday surrounded by antelope heads wearing glasses, walrus heads made from papier-mâché, and horse shaped mobiles created from wire that hung from the celling. Needless to say he was very careful when blowing out the candles on his cake.
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 The set utilises much of what we already carry to increase efficiency and reduce weight.  As the first few audience members arrived they witnessed us whip the wheels off our trailers, turn them upside, and use them as the base for our set.  Our bikes where then attached to stands which are fitted with a generator, and this generator runs a motor that turns a bike chain. This chain is connected to a large bicycle wheel, which has been laid horizontally at the top of a metal pole. Standing three meters away from this pole is its twin that also has a horizontal wheel attached to it. We then attached a long loop of rope around both horizontal wheels so that as we cycle, the generator causes the motor to turn, which then forces the wheels to spin, which in turn makes the rope revolve around the two wheels. This is ideal for getting back drops, extra characters, and a few secret gags on and off stage whilst using what we have and being completely bike powered.
If you managed to visualise and follow all of that description I am incredibly impressed, but if not here is how the set looks up close.
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 The next 8 days were to be intense: we would have a show everyday, we would need to cycle every day, and 4 of those nights we were to sleep on floors and wake up early to pack down before heading off. By the end of the week we knew we would be very tired.
After an incredible cycle where we were caught in both blistering heat and unyielding rain, we arrived at ‘Farms for City Children,’ in Arlingham.
 Children’s author Michael Morpurgo and his wife Clare founded this charity in 1976, and it offers ‘urban children from all over the country a unique opportunity to live and work together for a week at a time on a real farm in the heart of the countryside.’ Schools would come to the farm for one week where their students would experience a hands on approach to education.
 It sounds like a great idea, and when we arrived our assumption was confirmed. Every child we spoke to was engaged with what has going on around them and could tell each HandleBard in detail how the farm was run. The biggest testament to this charity was when we spoke to some teachers who have returned every year because of the positive impact it has had on their students.
 The atmosphere of the place was catching, and it turned out to be one of our most enjoyable performances to date. When performing to an audience of 300+, half of which are under the age of 16, you have an overwhelming sense of achievement if you have managed to keep everyone’s focus during a performance they may initially tagged as ‘boring.’ Having young students coming up to us after the show to tell us how much they enjoyed watching Shakespeare always puts a massive grin on our faces.
 In the morning Paul and Tom were up at 7am and joined the students in feeding all the animals, one of which included Valentine the Pig who had an actual love heart birthmark on her bum, and was uncannily born on February 14th.
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 We had managed to leave our ‘Garmin’ road sat nav at Courts Gardens, and didn't realise until we set off for Painswick Rococo Gardens.  The last two years we used Google maps on our phones, but swore never to do so again as designated ‘cycle paths,’ whilst fun for normal cyclists, are not always HandleBards friendly when you add trailers into the mix.
 Well sadly we had to get Google maps back on, and quickly ended up on a road which I could only describe as our very own HandleBard Rodeo. The bike could fit on the small stretch of green that was a ‘road’, however the wider trailer would lean left or right at speed as its wheels dipped into the ditch either side. Whilst we had sore hands by the end, as no one was thrown from their bikes I consider that a win (HandleBards 1 Rodeo 0.)
 At one point Matthew Seager, jumping off his bike to help a trailer that had got stuck, turned back to find his bike had mysteriously disappeared. On closer inspection it transpired that the foliage he took to be dense hedging and therefore able to hold the weight of his bike, we merely concealing a large ditch, which his bike (proving gravity to work) disappeared into.  5 minutes later, and with a lot of after-the-watershed language, he had managed to wrestle with the ditch and get his bike back.
 Some wonderful musicians accompanied us this week: We were joined once again by the wonderful Carrick at Painswick and Malc Evans at Cottesbrooke.
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 At the Old Swan and Minster Mill in Witney the venue had arranged the incredibly well named ‘Stompin’ Dave’ to entertain audience members. I have never seen a man play the banjo behind his head whilst singing and tap dancing to provide all his percussion. He was a one-man orchestra and his name really did sum him up. Had he been named ‘Quite Dave,’ it would not have had quite the same effect.
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 A few more cycles later, taking us up to our 300-mile marker, we took a moment to sit in a café where you could buy and design your very own gingerbread man. A lot happens in a week, but I feel I had to include this little fact because,  (as I am sure you would all agree,) Tom is a loss to the professional decorative ginger bread-making world.
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 After two beautiful evenings at our new venues ‘Stowe School,’ and ‘Ascott Estate,’ we found ourselves back with the charming John at ‘Elstow Abbey.’
James Farrell our director for that evening’s performance, who meets us every so often to see how we can improve the play, also greeted us. Apart from one moment when a cast member tripped over some lines which were about the fairy forest, and instead of his correct line yelled the woodland related word ‘BRACKEN’ at the top of his lungs (a word which cannot be found in the script of Midsummer at all), James was happy with the show.
I am currently typing this from a bed in my hotel room (luxury,) in Leicester having performed at the Guildhall last night. I am tempted not to move from this bed for the entire day, as it's the first soft thing our battered bodies have felt in near on a week. In fact we took to nicknaming Leicester the ‘Promised Land’ as all the problems we could not immediately fix on the road(such as one bike loosing 6 spokes, or the fact we haven’t had access to a launderette for 7 days) could be resolved here.
Safe to say, in terms of cycling, packing up and performing everyday, this week is probably going to have been the most intense of the tour.
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The HandleBards: Cycling Shakespeare 2015
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The HandleBards are off, embarking on their most ambitious National tour yet: 1500 miles, 2 shows, 4 actors, 63 performances, 42 venues, 3 trailers, and one Paul Moss as tour manager to keep his beady eye on our antics.
 We are highly excited to get these brand-spanking-new shows on the road as during the hectic rehearsal process we came up with a whole heap of new HandleBard ideas that we cannot wait to try out in front of an actual audience.
 With our typical ratio of creative excitement being favoured over cycling foresight, these productions are the most prop heavy to date, and consequently the large yellow and blue trailers are packed full bits and bobs for both shows.
 We are also able to unveil our new bicycle powered set, which we created with the wonderful help of cycle power engineers ‘Electric Pedals’, and can be dismantled and then strapped to the top of the trailers we have as we cycle from venue to venue.
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 Full of props and set the trailers quickly reached their capacity, and we still had backdrops, ‘base’ costumes, and 4 pairs of brown shoes to pack away. If you look closely at the photo at the top you shall see each bike has two panniers attached. Only one of these hold ‘personal’ belongings for each performer, the other one is packed full of everything we could not get into the show trailers. Essentially, it is the same as a person going on a two-month trip away from home, carrying all the stationary and furniture in their office, but only having room for a wash bag sized suitcase and a flannel-sized towel.
 However the madness does not end there: we have another smaller trailer, which contains all our HandleBard merchandise (mugs, t-shirts, tea towels, and programs.) Whilst some may cry that this additional weight is a step too far, I would have to point out that whilst we have an absolute blast performing we are also a cycling theatrical business, and this additional weight is a necessary evil. However, the t-shirts look so stunning I am sure our trailer shall become lighter quickly as people positively queue up to grab one (at least that is what we tell our tired legs.)
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 Once all that weight is connected to the bikes, we then found a place for our 5 men tent, sleeping bags, and roll mats. (little did we know that within the first week we would be cycling during the hottest day in a decade.)
 Our designer Nik corrall who created all our props and costumes, did such a brilliant job that they are worth their heavy weight in gold. (We have a rule that if something is heavier than the enjoyment it shall create for an audience, we get rid of it.)
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 Every object made was created within the parameters of being either from a bike or found in a camping ground. For example, the Donkey head above is created from a bicycle helmet, with a nose from a painted bicycle saddle, its ears fragments of cycle tyre, and its eyelids a tea strainer cut in half. The crown that Gertrude wears is a mix between a bike reflector, cog and cooking implements.
 This attention to detail can be seen in all of his design, so if you come to see one of our performances see how many things you can spot.
 Everything ready for our shows, we got our helmets on and our feet pedalling.
First week of a tour is always daunting. You suddenly have a lot of cycling with a lot of weight, and you have never had the opportunity to try out the ‘audience participation’ moments before.
 Amazingly, at our first show of ‘Midsummer’ at River Hill Gardens there were no major surprises at all. This was especially the case during the lovers fight scene, where Hermia’s rehearsed lift went from this:
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 (Totally rehearsed)
 To this:
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 (not rehearsed, or even discussed)
...Yep, no surprises at all in our first show.
 It has been amazing to be back the road, returning to some wonderful venues such as ‘Larmer Tree Gardens’ where once again Peacocks upstaged us, and to the ‘Sustainability centre’ in Petersfield, which promotes practical environmental values. We were also excited to visit some beautiful new locations such as Warninglid grange, Capron House and the Salisbury arts centre, all which we hope to return to again.
 Quote of the week overheard during our performance. :
When Puck brought on stage the flower for inducing love a mother whispered to her 7 year old daughter ‘Look Darling, that's the poison,’ to which the daughter responded with withering finality ‘No Mummy, that's an umbrella.’
 A special thank you must be made to the generosity of all the venue managers, the welcoming audiences, and the fantastic musicians who played with us: Michael Baker, and Dark Island.
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Introducing... Matt Seager
Paul Moss, long-time Bards and founder of the HandleBards has treaded the boards for the last time (...or the grass in our case). Paul is bowing out to focus on being Tour Manager of the HandleBards to help take us to new heights! With Paul's departure from the stage we are greeting a new Bard to take his place, 
Mr Matt Seager.
We had a good old chinwag with Matt this morning and asked him some very important questions!
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Describe yourself in 3 words.
Give it a go
How are you feeling about joining the Handlebards?
Beyond excited! Not only is it my first tour after graduating from drama school, but I’m cycling around the UK!! Sounds like it’s going to be an adventure. Also, the whole concept of the company seems like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never seen anything like it before, yet it seems to make perfect sense!
What's your favourite of Shakespeare’s plays?
My two joint favourite Shakespeare plays are Midsummer Night’s Dream and Hamlet,
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
Ha! You aren’t going to believe me but this true I promise. I just ran 3 miles. Not the biggest achievement, but I need to start somewhere to get ready for all this cycling.
Tell us something interesting about yourself that has nothing to do with acting, Shakespeare or cycling.
If I got the opportunity to eat nothing but steak for the rest of my life, I would take it.
Also, I have a twin sister.
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  If you hadn’t been born in this century when are where would you have liked to have lived?
Urrrrm… well considering the subject matter I’d have to say 16th Century. I’m sure me and Bill would have been great mates, and there are definitely some questions I’d like to ask.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?
Is this a hangover reference…. I think hangovers make me feel like a plastic bag. 
Any hobbies?
Football! I love football. Watching and playing. Obviously Theatre, film and TV as well. Just finished watching Peaky Blinders and Broadchurch. Both great!
Who is your biggest inspiration in theatre/film and why?
I always find this so difficult, it’s forever changing. I’d say Mark Rylance at the moment. Without doubt one of the best Shakespearean actors of our time. Outside Shakespeare he’s pretty spectacular as well, I HATE the fact that I didn’t get to see him in Jerusalem. 
What is your favourite Shakespearian quote?
Every time I do Shakespeare a different quote seems to become my favourite for a bit. The last Shakespeare show I did was The Tempest so at the moment it seems to be: 
‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep’
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Tea or Coffee?
Tea – I drink about 6 cups a day – I only drink Coffee to wake me up.
Wine or Beer?
Can I have both please? Probably beer if I had to choose, I’m an ale man. I do love red wine though.
Fish and Chips or Roast Dinner?
Roast Dinner – I love meat!
What does the fox say?
‘Alright mate, how’s it going?’ – He’s so polite.
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Matt is joining the HandleBards from today to rehearse a Midsummer Night’s Dream and Hamlet before we embark on the cycling exodus that is our HandleBard’s Cycling Summer Tour.
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HIFA and the HandleBard Glade.
‘HIFA’ (Harare International Festival of the Arts) which this year had named its festival ‘articulate,’ was something else.  
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 HIFA has over 1400 global artists in music, dance and theatre. It also boasts an incredible amount of food stalls and a diverse crafts section, which sell amongst other things items that are entirely made from recycled goods.  
 Whilst we were there, being treated to a free pass to any show, we were delighted by the skill of ‘Tangram,’ which blended the power of ballet, physical theatre, and juggling into a strong tale of love and passion.
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 We danced away to the Dutch rapper with American blood ‘Digitzz’, to Australian hip hop band ‘True Vibenation’, and to the uplifting Irish folk band ‘Perfect Friction.’
 There was a little bit of Bromance for Digitzz from the HandleBards, and seeing him after his show in the artist’s green room I was pestered by Tom that we had to get this photo with him. So here it is. You can see the Bromance featuring in Tom’s eyes.
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 We were also blown away by some fantastic theatre such as HeLa, which tells the true story of Henrietta Lacks: who’s cells have given so much to the world in medicine, but whose name is known by so few. We applaud Adura Onashile for her potrayal and performance.
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 The HandleBards have rarely been treated so well at a festival (and we have been treated well at most.)  At the airport we were picked up by representatives of the festival and driven to our accommodation – The Crowne Plaza a stones throw from the festival itself.
 Once there we were met by some more representatives who issued us our free passes, a HIFA bag containing all festival information, and invited to a party that evening with the festival director Manuel Bagorro and all new artists.
 When at the party we were honoured to be in a room with David Gripper and Tcheka, who are both incredible acoustic artists, and even ended the night by playing for us all.
 We were then informed that all our shows had sold out and that we would be performing in ‘The HandleBard Glade’, yes that’s right we had our very own glade equipped with 25 large rugs for audience members, HIFA emblazoned banners and the ‘Watershed Marimba Band.’  ( We felt pretty hardcore, even if we are more ‘Lute and Lyre’ than ‘Rock and Roll.’)
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Whilst the HandleBards made quite an impression, we were surprised when a gang of girls screamed and made a beeline for us one evening.  We were internally overjoyed, but determined to take it in our stride and act like groups of women often tell us how incredible we are and ask for selfies with us.
 It was when one girl asked Tom if he was ‘Matthew,’ that as one HandleBard unit we suddenly realised we had been mistake for Beatenberg, which was the band headlining the festival.
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There is only one thing you can do in this circumstance to prevent further embarrassment, and that is to go with it.
 So we continued to smile for the photos with slightly glazed expressions as we tentatively listened to Tom answer the girl. ‘No that’s not me,’ he said chuckling without quite revealing that we were not who they believed us to be. ‘Phew’ was our collective thought, he is a quick thinker, he had not lied and we had not been rumbled.
 ‘Which one are you then?’ responded the girl. Oh No, went our collective thoughts, there was nothing for it, ‘I am Tom,’ Tom replies.
 Now as there is no tom in Beatenberg and the girl was sure to know it, he made a quick muttered excuse and left grabbing the rest of us as he went by. As I half turned I could see the face of the girl begin to change into sudden understanding. I am very glad we were not around for any retribution, even if we had not instigated the situation in the first place (This scenario happened three times.)
 Whilst at the festival we were made to feel incredibly welcome and we wish to thank all those that worked to create HIFA, from its directors to its front of house for this fact. Those that create it determine a festival’s atmosphere, and this festival was warm, energetic, and had a family orientated feeling to it. All artists had access to the greenroom, which was located centre of the festival, and all artists talked to each other and to the festivalgoers normally without any ego or arrogance, but with a love for their art. It was lovely to be a part of.
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 On our final day we held an open workshop for anyone and were overjoyed we over 60 local teenagers came and got stuck in. It's always a pleasure to see people smiling and laughing when we start our session with a ridiculous warm up game. Dancing around like a penguin with you tongue stuck out and your bum stuck out, firmly gets rid of any teenage angst, and allows everyone to just take pleasure in being silly, and being silly together.
 Just like in India, their understanding of the text was spot on. No explanations were needed from us, and we could see a large amount of proficient performers within Harare’s younger population.
 There was just one more thing that deserves a mention: the wonderful and never ending breakfast provided by the Crowne Plaza hotel that even Tom met his match with.
 Our week at HIFA done we said goodbye to all the friends we had made, and thanked Sebastian who is a festival promoter and friend of the HandleBards. Without him we would never of had the wonderful experience of performing at HIFA, and we are so glad he brought us over.
 Whilst sad to leave we were excited by the prospect of another challenge: we had a 30 hour flight to get back to London, and once there we would have less than 15 hours before performing at the Wandsworth Fringe.  From Wandsworth we would then go to York for their Shakespeare festival before putting these performances to bed for good.
 Both Wandsworth and York were so very British after our time away, but a perfect way to finish our shows.
It was also an emotional time for all the Bards, as our founder and a performer Paul Moss, shall no longer be performing in the troupe. Instead he shall take on the role as full time Tour Manager and Producer, leading the Bards onto greater endeavors than ever before.
 Thank you Paul for delighting audiences for the last two years.  
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handlebards · 9 years
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Barding about the Victoria Falls
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Our week at Victoria Falls was fantastic.
We went canoeing, where we enjoyed the wildlife and saw 9 majestic but rather territorial Hippos, (for those that don’t know Hippos are the largest cause of human death from animals following being bitten by a mosquito with Malaria.)  Therefore whilst majestic, it was a little disconcerting when they disappeared under the water less than 20 meters from your raft. With the ability to hold their breathe for up to 12 minutes, they could pop up anywhere.
We went white water rafting: we all managed to stay onboard however 12 members of the convoy did not, and we pulled them back onto the raft after they had been battered by the currents and washed downstream– no loss of life to our knowledge.
 We went on an adrenaline adventure, which included: one flying fox which gave you an incredible view of the canyon, being at a flying horizontal position, right at its top and in between its two sides.
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 One zip line: which was incredibly fast and great fun. Tom and myself did it as a tandem, and we yelled all the way down as if we had an unspoken competition of who could scream the loudest.
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 And TWO gorge swings: jumping 70 meters before your cable took your weight and combined with gravity, turning the death defying fall into an adrenaline fuelled swinging motion. The standard falling forward or falling backwards not being enough for the boys, they requested to go into a handstand position before pushing themselves off the platform… so they could fall headfirst and really enjoy the view.
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And we visited the glorious Victoria Falls itself.  No words, just go.
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 When we were not partaking in activities we spent a large amount of time getting to know the people in the area and took delight in visiting the various eateries. A Special mention must be given to ‘Creamy Inn,’ which we visited nearly everyday for ice creams that could be dipped in melted caramel or chocolate.
And on our final day, having been bombarded for 5 days to buy ‘The big five’ which are carved stone figures by street tradesmen, we decided to go to the markets and haggle to see what we could get with 10 dollars.  (Inflation is soo high that everyone has just switched to using dollars rather than the South African Rand, which is now being sold as a souvenir)
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 We packed so much in that it would be too much to tell everyone in great detail, but there is one story I wish to write about.
On our second day we were sat out the ‘Lookout café’, which is perched upon the top of the gorge, having a cocktail in the late afternoon. Suddenly we hear the sound of branches being broken and look to see an elephant in the distance. We naturally admired its beauty and as it disappeared behind some foliage continued our conversations.
15 mins later, cocktails having been drunk we started to wander our way back to the Shoestring Backpackers Lodge before it became dark. Having walked less than 200 meters from the café we hear the sound of an elephant trumpet. We realised that the elephant we saw couldn’t have gone very far and was only a little walk away. We were also at a fork in the road, to go left would be a direct route back to the main town and our loggings, but to go right would be to follow the sound.
We went right. Creeping quietly as to not draw too much attention to ourselves we followed the noise of braking bracken which was becoming louder. To our delight as we rounded the corner we saw the elephant we had seen earlier, but it was not alone, it had a partner.
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 Now elephants are big creatures, and maybe I was born with a bit more of a cautious gene in me, but I hung back as the others started to approach them. They were not foolish enough to get too close, sticking instead to lingering behind bushes and trees as to not be seen. But elephants are wild animals, in my mind to them this was their natural environment, and I was pretty sure that they knew we were there and being less than 10 meters away we could not out run them if they decided they didn’t like the fact.
 After a few mins when it became clear they did not mind our presence, I began to relax and really admire their beauty and sheer power. Whilst large and with the ability to tear whole trees down with their trunk, they came across as gentle and family minded.
 Very happy at such a wonderful experience, Calum, Tom, Paul and myself quietly backed away to continue on the dusty road we had chosen. And as we walked we realised we were not alone. There was in fact another pair of elephants to our left, and now we looked around properly we could see another one a little way in front of us, and as we entered a clearing it dawned upon us that we had stumbled into the middle of a herd of around 7 elephants. 
 It was unknown to us at the time, but elephants were considered a ‘pest’ to the residents. Rather in the same way that foxes are considered a pest in London. They are seen to over run the place and they caused damage. However in London, residents don’t forgo an area just before nightfall because of them.
 Yep, there are a lot of similarities between Urban foxes and Urban elephants, both cause damage, both are animals, one is small and orange, the other is huge, grey and with the ability to trample you to death.
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 It’s amazing how still a person can go. There are moments in our plays when we have to freeze on stage, and even though we have done the particular scene over 80 times, we were never as still as we suddenly became then.
 Creeping forward, heart rates reaching higher than normal, we saw some tradesmen standing on a bridge making frantic hand gestures. Looking to where they were pointing a Mammoth, (who haven’t got the memo that they were meant to be extinct,) was mere meters from us behind some trees with its back turned.
 Never taking our eyes from these giant creatures, whilst keeping one hand on Calum whose delight at being so close had knocked out any fear, we walking towards to bridge.
 At the bridge there was a crowd of people, tourists and locals alike who had been ‘inconvenienced’ by the elephants and where unable to go anywhere. Looking to my right one woman in a car was just waiting for a huge elephant that was standing in the road to leave.
 This is where something strange happened to the HandleBards, we got separated. Calum and myself started to follow two tourists being lead by a tradesmen up the road and a safe distance from the Elephants. We were a little ahead of Tom and Paul and an elephant with one tusk, who was imaginatively nicknamed ��One Tusk’ and known to be formidable, turned saw Calum and trumpeted lowering his head as if to charge.
 The tradesman who had been assuring the two other tourists that everything would be find, started to sprint away as he heard the sound leaving me, Calum and the tourists alone next to a very annoyed Elephant.
 Very quickly we managed to catch the tradesman up by running very fast. However, on hearing the noise, Tom and Paul had stopped and had been called back by the locals who were standing on the bridge. We had gotten away from ‘One Tusk’ without him chasing us, but Tom and Paul who would have had to pass him too may not have been so lucky, and therefore had to find another way.
 As we appeared on the main road next to the town we saw them sitting on the back of an open truck, wind in their hair and massive grins on their faces. Hopping off they told us that a shopkeeper had piled everyone into his truck, and driving at full speed and they had to just hold on tight, as he drove at past the elephants which literally loomed above their heads.
 The area of Victoria Falls is a beautiful, wonderful, and (if you are not silly) a very safe place to visit. We had many fantastic, exciting and also relaxing stories, but unfortunately cannot tell them all.
 So please do not be put off by our elephant shenanigans. But instead visit this glorious part of the world and experience everything you can.
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handlebards · 9 years
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Our two day journey to Victoria Falls
Exiting a taxi at the airport, following a rather exciting day full of protests and Bollywood Dancing, we headed to the check in desk.
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Our flight was due to leave at 4am and we had not slept since the following day, choosing instead to stay up and dance. When we arrived at check in we were a little merry and full of nostalgia. But we still had out wits about us  as we needed to check in all our set props and costume, to ensure they reached Harare for the shows.
The festival organizes had booked our flights for us, and from Bangalore we would fly to Abu Dhabi, from there to Johannesburg, and from there to Harare. For the geographical amongst you, this may seem quite an obscure route, and indeed geographically it was, however due to time and cost it was the most convenient.  
Whilst a slightly fuzzy and sleepy Calum was sure our first flight would take us to ‘A-boo-da-be,’ (oh dear a little to much partaking in Kingfisher beer) we all managed to board the right flight and get down to some needed rest.
The flights were very easy and full of inflight entertainment, line learning, and the drool that accompanies a person falling asleep sitting upright. Only one incident happened, and it happened to me:
At Johannesburg airport having traveled for nearly 20 hours I needed to relieve myself. Taking myself the only facilities I sat down in the only cubical to carry out my… you know. The cubical was one of those made of thick brick walls that run floor to ceiling, and the door fitted snugly into the space created for it. Very snugly indeed. There was also no door handle.
With no way of slipping my fingers in-between door and wall to pries it open I would have to sit in the cubicle until someone came in, and very sheepishly ask them to push the door. I wasn’t concerned though, as this was the only cubical in the only toilet someone was bound to come in…
… Five minutes later, aware that my connecting flight was due to leave in 20 minuets and not a soul had come in to answer their call of nature, I had no choice but to text my colleagues. (This was something I really, really didn’t want to do, as they would make jokes about it for the rest of the journey)
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You can see by this photo how the conversation went; you can also see that this conversation was in fact a monologue. No one was answering, and with 10 minutes to go before the flight left I was starting to get worried. Eventually Calum entered the toilet and very awkwardly said the words ‘ urgh, mate, we, um, are going to go through, do you mind…. Hurrying up?’
Weighing up which was more embarrassing, the fact that I had been stuck in the toilet for 15 mins, or the fact they thought I had been in it for legitimate reasons, I very calmly asked him to kick open the door. 
When we reached Harare it was dark, and staying at a very exotic ‘Holiday Inn,’ this was the closest we got to see some of Africa’s landscape that night:
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 We had a week off before performing at HIFA, and had organised staying at the Shoestring backpackers lodge in Victoria Falls.
 We left 3 of our 4 bags full of props and costumes in Harare for the festival; our 4th bag containing our tent in did not make it to Harare but was somewhere else in the world. No need to panic, we had contacted baggage control, and they believed it was in Abu Dhabi, and ‘hopefully would be with us within the week’…. Hopefully.
 Whilst the airport offers a direct flight to Victoria Falls that would take an hour and a half, this mode of transportation was not exciting enough for us, and also an unnecessary waste of CO2 emissions.
 Instead we had booked ourselves on a 5 hour coach journey to Bulawayo, and from there, a 12 hour sleeper train into the heart of Victoria Falls.
 Morning came; we boarded the coach, which subsequently broke down an hour after departure. No worries, another coach was on its way and we didn’t need to catch our train until night. Another hour later the new coach arrived, and this one offered in-coach entertainment in the form of the TV series ‘Everybody Hates Chris.’ Or rather one episode from the TV series. The same episode. On repeat.
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 As soon as it started for the fourth time Calum very politely asked if it could be switched off, I worried people might complain and that they really wanted to see Whoopi Goldberg start a ‘block watch’ for the entirety of their journey, but nobody did. In fact there was almost an audible sigh of relief.
Our 5 hour coach journey became 8 hours, but the scenery we passed was stunning, and once in Bulawayo we had a great time looking around. Our first impression was how friendly everyone was. Following some beef and rice, we went to a local bar and some regulars struck up a conversation with us. When we told them we were taking the train they laughed and said it was a ‘bad decision,’ and that our 12-hour journey would be more like 20.
We experienced mounting concern about the train, as all tourist information we had read, and now word of mouth from residents, had confirmed that it was going to be a penance rather than some fun.
With this in mind, we quickly went to the supermarket to pick up food for the journey and a few drinks. Once inside I couldn’t help but be intrigued with how differently the shelves were stacked than those in the UK. Maybe their way was better, as many would argue that milk and vodka are the essentials in life:
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 The train ride lasted 17 hours, and was a whirlwind of experience. In the food cart you could purchase beer, cigarettes, lollipops, and possibly scurvy.
No word of a lie though, we loved every moment of it. Four of us squeezed into a three-man room (Paul selflessly slept on the floor on those few moments when we did sleep.) The room contained just us, one pull out bed from the wall, a sofa that became two more beds, a sink, and a window looking to the outside world.
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The stars at night were one of, if not the most, beautiful sights we experienced in our whole month of International touring. The train frequently would stop for up to an hour at a time, and at those moments we would jump off the train and scurry around the surrounding landscape.
At 6am, we were up, wrapped in blankets to watch the sunrise, and the closer we got to Victoria Falls the more pronounced the natural environment became: Long plateaus of land covered with trees that we could see over the top of, the sky pink and gold with the light, and troops of baboons that scaled local water towers.  (please note attention to detail, I googled for the plural of ‘Baboons’)
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 Once we pulled into Victoria Falls, we were tired, we were hungry, we probably reeked to high heaven but we felt wonderful.
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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBards get Smart, Bollywood dancing, and out of India.
The next morning when we tried to hop spritely from our beds, we discovered our legs were suffering a 2000 step hangover from the Nandi Hills. The feeling was almost reassuring, transporting us back to some mornings following strenuous days on our cycling tour. Ah the nostalgia, ah the sudden realisation that a lot of training is needed as soon as we get back to the UK for us to be prepared to cycle again. 
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SMarT Studios, for Movement Arts and Therapies, was our final Indian venue for this leg of our International tour before heading to Zimbabwe.
This studio was on the very other side of Bangalore to the Jagriti and The Humming Tree, and to get there we had to spend over an hour in two motorised rickshaws.
 Once in the venue, we walked up some steps that encircled the outside of the building, passing some healthy yoga looking types with roll mats and water bottles in hand, and up to the top floor where we would set up.
 These performances would be more open to the environment than before, as the space was intended for physical performers, a meter of open space ran between the wall and the roof to allow air to ventilate through the room. But hey, the HandleBards have performed on bridges, castles, frigates and other places not traditionally indented for Shakespearean productions, so why not a yoga classroom?
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 As we set up we realised we would have to contend with the Bangalore roads that ran next to the building. We are used to competing with roads and the sounds of human life, but the Bangalorian roads are something to contend with and there were no hanging microphones in this space to help us.
 On top of this fact, the evening air had brought with it some little midges that wasted no time getting straight down work by biting the lot of us.
 Oh there is one more thing, there were no lights other than a few dim bulbs hanging from the celling, and it outside dusk was falling. But its ok as the audience couldn’t trip over any chairs, because there were none.
 We like a challenge, we pride ourselves on bringing Shakespeare out to locations where it usually would not be shown, so instead of this deflating our spirits, as you might have expected, we knew we would have to crank up our energy to deliver a great show.
 And despite my description, the space was fantastic. It has been created to be a wonderful space for movement and it certainly was, and bringing a show into the space, which the space had not entirely been created for, is exactly what our company is about.  
 Any space can be utilised for the arts, any space can be transformed into your own little ‘HandleBard’ world, and the following day when sipping coffee at Café Coffee Day, one of our 60 audience members came up to us and told us what a fantastic experience they had.
 The HandleBard moral of this story: Always go at what you do with joy, with energy, and with a positive mind, as you never know how good a time others may be having. Oh, also go with a bottle of Mozzy spray to keep those little biting midge buggers at bay.
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 For the second show Ranji had been a star and had organised a man to come and install some temporary show lights at the back of the room. The kit brought was extensive and very professional, but 15 minutes before we let audience members in, all the lights in the building blew. The reason being, the lights installed had fused the entire building, which could not cope with the power surge they required.  Some very quick rewiring and all problems were solved, whilst we could not use more than one of the lights brought, it managed to transform our set so it appeared to be viewed threw a cheery sappier instagram filter.
 On the day of our final show, protests broke out in the city and around India. The news reported that Karnataka was on ‘lock down’ following state wide strikes which had broken out regarding a damn being built between Karnataka and Tamil, which would mean Tamil would have more water than Karnataka.
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 In Ranji and Alma’s flat where we were staying we were watching the news on their television until the screen went blank. Confused we looked up we saw the fan above our heads, that kept the flat cool during the heat of the day, slowing down. As part of these protests the power had been cut.
 At the same time, and slightly more amusingly, Tom appeared from the shower lathered up with soap but with a sudden lack of running water, was in no position to wash it off.
 Luckily for us the apartment block we were in had its own generator, and whilst that wouldn’t turn the water supply or gas back on, it did mean we had a fan to keep us cool, and the ability to access the Internet. (although this generator would run out after 6 hours.)
 Borrowing a gas canister from their lovely neighbours so we could cook lunch, Ranji and the HandleBards discussed the likelihood of getting to our evening’s performance. It began as a conversation about ‘likelihood,’ which turned into a discussion about ‘certainty,’ as following a phone call we found the roads we needed to take had been blocked off.
 Whilst it is always sad to cancel a show, with this information our hands were tied, and we were now more concerned if we would manage to get to the airport for our flight to Zimbabwe, which would leave at 4am.
 From Bangalore we would have 3 connecting flights before we ended up in Harare, and if we missed one we would miss them all, and seeing as the currently report within the city was that people were burning tyres, our ability to reach the airport in time wasn’t looking too hopeful.
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Then something strange happened: at 6pm on the dot, all protests stopped. Everything. The roads cleared, the power gas and water was back on, and all deliveries such as drinking water were resumed. I have never experienced such a politely timed protest that goes from arson one moment, to a normal daily routine the next so promptly in my life.
 As the show was cancelled, and Tom had now washed the dried suds off his body, we decided we should celebrate our final night in India in style.
 We would not sleep before our 4am flight, but instead would go to a Bollywood themed nightclub.
Suited and booted (which for us means we put a slightly creased shirt on and some actual shoes) we went out to paint the town red, or at least a stylish magenta.
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 In the club, which was in fact one section of a massive hotel, there was a huge screen which showed the music videos of the songs being played.  Quickly, Tom, Paul, Calum and myself Brodie, tried to copy every dance move, ultimately a few beats behind everybody else.
 Calum was in heaven, being a football fan and a supporter of Chelsea, he was overjoyed to see one (of their many) important matches been screened next to the hotels pool. Beer in hand, cigarette between his lips, he boogied on down with the rest of us without once removing his eyes from the screen.
 One man even stopped Paul from dancing as, in his words, ‘your moves will drive the ladies wild.’ This was of natural concern to us all, as it has taken humans 2 million years to go from Neanderthal to modern day sophisticated Homo sapiens, we wouldn’t want Pauls dancing to make some poor woman revert and go ‘ape.’
 To top it off, a bunch of seven partygoers came over to us, screaming that we were the HandleBards. They had seen the performance the night before and loved it. We were so happy to hear this, we all spent the rest of our time that evening dancing with them to all the Bollywood classics including ‘Dance Basanti – Ungli.’
 Sadly the time came when our taxi pulled up and it was time for us to say goodbye to Ranji and Almas, and to India.
 Thank you so much Ranji and Almas, you were both so wonderful to all of us, and we really could not have had such a fun and successful time in India without you. We cannot wait to work with ‘Yours Truly repertoire theatre’ in the future, and we feel we have made life long friends.
 A special thank you must also be made to all those working at the Jagriti, Humming Tree, and SMaRT studios. As well as to all of Ranji’s neighbours and friends, who welcomed us by hosting such a lovely evening with exquisite food and fabulous company.
India, it has been a blast, thank you.
The HandleBards x 
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handlebards · 9 years
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The HandleBards get Humming Tree, Nandi Hills, and Monkey Poo
‘Yours Truly theatre repertory’, working with ‘The Sandbox collective’, had organised a single showing of ‘The Comedy of Errors’ at the incredibly atmospheric music venue, ‘The Humming Tree.’
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The Humming Tree was a very different vibe to the Jagriti. Whilst the Jagriti is an amazingly kited out theatre created for producing large and small scale performances, the Humming Tree is an incredibly trendy bar, with a fantastic music scene, a roof top bar, and great food. It’s stage is usually utilised by musicians who need much less space than most theatre companies, and we knew we would have to squeeze our tents onto the raised platform to make room for the 200+ onlookers that night.
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 The venue has a base of dedicated fans (which was unsurprising being one of the coolest places we had been), and as the auditorium began to fill with audience members, it reminded us of our summer tour: as everyone had a beverage in hand and was chatting away before the show began in a relaxed and jovial manner.
 As it turned out we did not have enough space to fit both our tents on the stage, so quickly had to re-choreograph sections of the play to fit within one tent. We leapt on the opportunity this gave us to add more comedy to the show, as the whole feeling of our production being a logistical nightmare is something that we love. Ditching one of the two tents, we pushed the remaining one flat against the back wall, and on the limited space we now had ‘backstage’ had to pile the costumes, one on top of the other, but in ascending order so we would grab the correct costume at the correct time. (We would just have to hope we got it right)
We were also treated to microphones hanging from the ceiling, a luxury we have never before experienced but a luxury that was needed, as the 200+ audience would be 12 seats across and stretch far back, rather than creating a semi circle around us as we were used to
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During the show we almost laughed ourselves following some unexpected gags we threw in due to the new space. One of these included lifting the tent flap (which usually would not have been accessible) to reveal the face of an unsuspecting Tom at an opportune moment. This moment came with the line ‘look where you should, and that should clear you sight,’ which is a line about the character ‘Adriana’. As Tom plays ‘Adriana’, and he was the only one in the tent at the time, it worked perfectly for the flap to be lifted and reveal him, midway through getting out of his Adriana costume, with a look of utter confusion on his face.
Post show, we met the owners of the venue, and following a chilled out break on the roof terrace with a drink in hand and some food, we went back to quaff the night away in his very stylish flat. This was one of the first opportunities we had experienced in India of socialising with the younger local arts community. It is clear the arts scene here is very diverse and rapidly growing. The atmosphere really buzzed.
 So far Bangalore’s art scene had not only welcomed us, but also impressed us with its abundance, a fact that has greatly excited us as we wish to work further with it in the future. There was only one aspect of Bangalore we could not get our heads around, and that was the fact no one walked anywhere. It was impossible for us to get our bearings. The city is so dense with roads and what felt like several sprawling city centres. It was common for residents to grab a taxi everywhere rather than attempting to get there by foot.
 The next day we decided we must get out of the city and visit a more rural area of India in which we could walk and explore.
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 The Nandi Hills was exactly what our environmental and nomadic souls craved and following a 2 hour drive out of the city we were dropped at its peak 1,479 meters above sea level.
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Monkeys! Monkeys everywhere!
 I was tempted to throw them a typewriter, and sit down with a stopwatch to see if they would answer the age old conundrum of the ‘infinite monkey theorem’: that is if you left a monkey hitting keys at random for an infinite amount of time, they will at some point, complete the entire works of Shakespeare. This would be great, as in our free time we needed to learn Hamlet and Midsummer Night’s Dream for our summer tour, and having a hardcopy of the plays would be useful. Sadly I had no typewriter to hand, so instead had to enjoy the stunning scenery from the viewpoints with a cup of Chai in hand.
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Whilst walking from view point to view point we saw a bench under a scattering of trees that would provide some shade. As I sat on a bench something dropped at speed an inch from my head. Looking down I saw some greeny-brown substance that was now spreading over my shoe. It is amazing how quickly a body reacts, and without asking the permission of my brain my legs leapt from the bench and away from the tree of their own accord. When I judged I was a safe distance I dared to look up.
On raising my eyes I saw a monkey crouched directly above where I had been sitting, bottom raised in the air, and an expression upon its face which professed sheer relief at being considerably lighter than a moment before, having just emptied its bowels over me…
…In the Netherlands a seagull pooed on my head, now in India a monkey just pooed on my shoe. I am mildly terrified of going to Zimbabwe next week knowing that elephants live there.
 Suddenly these cute little critters looked like poo slinging demons from the underworld and the other Bards, after stifling their amusement at my situation, went with me to seek some washing facilities. We found none, however in our search we met a man who led us to a set of stairs that coursed all the way down the Nandi Hills, and we got our metaphorical exploration hats on.
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The Nandi Hills had been a fortress, 10km from Chickballapir, 60km from the city of Bangalore and with incredible sightlines of its surrounding areas. Thousands of small steps ran down the mountain, and as we descended we were treated to the natural flora, relics of when the area used to be a fortress, and for some reason discarded sandals (but never in their pairs.)
The abandoned sandals still remain a mystery to us but as the heat of the day started to increase our theories became increasingly wilder. One included a monster that lived in the Nandi Hills, that had an aversion to tourists wearing matching sandals, and therefore would rush and eat one, however as there were no bones, we guessed the people must have got away. Whilst we knew, deep down, that this was a silly suggestion, we all took a moment to surreptitiously look over our shoulders before continuing.
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Sometimes a person’s curiosity goes into battle with a person’s foresight. A good example of this would be 1) I wonder what is just around this corner (curiosity) vs. 2) How on earth am I going to get home (foresight.) In our case the curiosity won.  
We kept walking down the Hills wondering what we would find, paying no heed to how we would get back up. However all worries were pushed out of our minds when at the bottom we found a beautiful little village full of locals wearing stunning bright colours, children playing, and cattle roaming the streets
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 It was not until we had walked through this village and a few kilometres out across some dusty roads, that it dawned upon us that there might be no other way back to the top of the Nandi Hills, than up the staircase that scaled the 1,479 meters we had just descended a few kilometres back.
It was now 12:30pm, and the heat was in the 30’s (Celsius.) We had half a bottle of water between the four of us, and two chocolate bars (which where probably now just as liquid as the water.)
Very slowly, and without much conversation, we started to make our assent. Everyone has had an experience where, without the aid of any water, their clothes appear as if they have just come out a washing machine. That was us, but without the spin cycle.
Half way up, still admiring the beautiful scenery (we never let a good view go to waste,) Calum took a look around, and seeing no one, promptly removed his trousers. Whilst our tops were sodden with sweat, and there was a long walk to go, Calum saw no reason in adding to the discomfort by wearing denim trousers.
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 We made quite a picture from behind. Calum with no trousers but with tight boxers which resembled small sports shorts, looked like an overly keen father figure who had taken his family on an unwanted hike. Tom, who had pulled his bandana over his head, now from a distance could resemble his wife wearing a headscarf. Whilst Paul, who had stolen my hat but was wearing it backwards to protect the back of his neck from the sun, now appeared like their moody teenager son.
 I didn’t bother asking how I looked, but I presumed like the panting and sweaty pet they had taken for a walk, whose legs were not long enough for the large journey.
 Needless to say, when we arrived back at the top, we were in high spirits. Since arriving to India we had not had a physical challenge, and it felt good to have got out and experienced a bit of Indian landscape.
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