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You can’t stop the boats: Sorry We Didn’t Die At Sea @ParkTheatre

Sorry We Didn’t Die At Sea by Italian playwright Emanuele Aldrovandi and translated by Marco Young, has made a topical return to London at the Park Theatre after playing earlier this summer at the Seven Dials Playhouse. In a week when leaders and leaders in waiting were talking about illegal immigration, it seemed like a topical choice . It also has one hell of an evocative title. The piece opens with Adriano Celantano’s Prisencolinensinainciusol , which sets the scene for what we are about to see. After all, a song about communication barriers seems perfect for a play about people trafficking and illegal immigration. One side doesn’t understand why they happen, and the other still comes regardless of the latest government announcement / slogan .  However, the twist here is that the crossing is undertaken the other way. People are fleeing Europe instead of escaping war or poverty in Africa or the Middle East. It’s set sometime in the not-too-distant future. There is a crisis causing p

Last thoughts...

As it turns out, today is my last day in London. Tonight I fly back to Australia. Whether this is a permanent arrangement or a temporary one I will find out in a couple of weeks, so it is probably worth making a list of…

Things I will miss (in no particular order):
  • The weather. It has been fine and mild, and as the leaves are now starting to fall it looks all rather pleasant. I will be returning to Australia (Brisbane in particular) where it is hot, sticky and glaringly bright. When I tell English people about this they look at me and say "Oh yes I can see how you just can't stand the prospect of returning…"

  • Public transport that sort of works. Actually even with its problems it is still by far the most civilised public transport I have encountered in all my travels.

  • The parks the greenery and all that goes with that

  • British Television. Series three of Little Britain is about to commence. Darn.

  • Marks and Spencer food. By far the most edible and doesn't taste like they made it with their feet.

  • My gym. Even by London standards it was pretty "out there".

Things I won't miss so much (again in no particular order):
  • A fried chicken store on every corner with that lovely aroma of week-old vegetable shortening wafting out of it

  • Sandwiches that appear to be soaked in mayonnaise.

  • Hard water

  • Being accosted by beggars and Big Issue sellers (wait a moment, that will happen in Brisbane too)  

  • Shitty coffee

So it will be over and out from Paul in London. And over to http://paulincognito.blogspot.com

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