Nice legs shame about the boat race...

Look North arrived to film a piece about Sully. Myself and Martin offered ourselves for interview but, sadly, we were not deemed aesthetically pleasing enough for the BBC. Good looking cast member Fidel (pictured right) had a chat with them in the quiet surroundings of the theatre foyer; the public and staff forbade throughout from entering this very public area as nowt can get in the way of a bit of good PR. Leanne, the Beeb's one-woman video journalist plate spinner, filmed a nice moving (ie emotional, not just moving per se as most of the play involves people moving about an area known in theatrical grammar as 'the stage'. See, I'm learning, eh?) bit of the play. Twice. I ate a sandwich, watched a bit of the play, sorted out some tickets for a few people, wandered into town, started wondering how it will all go down tomorrow night, whether the comedy is remotely funny and what Sully himself would make of it all. John G wished us good luck, which was nice. Earlier, as we ventured out into the day, I'd observed not one but two people wearing those big shoes that some unfortunate people have to wear on one of their feet. As M also pointed out, I didn't think that anyone wore them anymore. You know the things - a normal shoe on one foot, a great big massive Frankenstein boot arrangement on the other, which, for some reason I felt like sharing with the world via my open car window, I decided was called a "clump boot". I realise there's obviously something wrong with the foot within, but this footwear seems to force a limp on the wearer. And, having not seen 'em for years, I was totally shocked that two came along at once. Still, it was a distraction from worrying about the play, so thank heavens for other people's podiatric misfortune.