Act 1 Scene 1: A partially decorated living room in North London; crammed with furniture. Evening. There is a large picture window at the back. Empty mugs show evidence of recent human activity.
Off stage, a phone is heard ringing. It switches to answerphone.
Ma: (off stage) Just wondering if you were home yet.
Ma: (off stage) Hope you’ve had a good weekend.
Ma: (off stage) Haven’t seen a blog recently.
Ma: (off stage) Catch you when you’re back then.
Meanwhile, in Salisbury, ActorLaddie and I are bunking off the endless decorating to see a friend performing at the Playhouse. We’ve shoved the furniture from the end of the room we haven’t done into the end that we have; the painting stuff has been left out in case any wandering elves have had a spare minute.
The Airbnb is rather wonderful – look:
It’s run by a hearty woman with dogs who shows us to our room up a rather splendid staircase: Escher would have liked this one.
Salisbury is gorgeous in the crisp Autumn sunlight. I’ve not been before, though ActorLaddie played here on a tour ages ago.
I’m awestruck by the Cathedral: apparently the main section took only thirty eight years to build – from 1220 to 1258. How the blazes something this spectacular was built at that time is beyond my comprehension. AND they managed to keep up to date with their blogs. One can only look and wonder.
Inside, there’s a Chapter House built to house a 1215 copy of the Magna Carta. The room has a frieze of stories from Genesis. The guide, Chris, pointed out his favourite section: the sculptor had been tasked with showing the Pharoah driving his chariot into the Red Sea, in pursuit of Moses. Clearly having no idea what a Pharoah or a chariot might resemble, he gives us instead a rather splendid farmyard cart. Can you spot it?
Patrons are now asked to leave this blog quietly, so as not to disturb the sunset.
For your own safety, you are particularly asked to pay attention to this warning on the reverse of one of Nante’s bog-standard, badgeless birthday card.