Sunset

In the last few days my limbs have turned to jelly, my voice has dropped two octaves and gone croaky like Yoda and if I walk over anymore Edinburgh cobbles my feet will start screaming and frogmarch me back onto proper pavements.

But I refer you once again to my patented definition of Festival Fatigue to stress that whilst my body is wrecked, my mood remains indefatigably good. As much as I'm looking forward to going to bed for a week once I'm home, I'm sure I'll be missing the festival before too long.

At the Total Theatre Awards ceremony the other day, one of the speakers pointed out something obvious but very important. Every one of us knows what an endurance contest the Edinburgh Festival is, we know we're signing up to an utterly exhausting month and yet we troop back, year after year. It's pretty special.

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Today is my last day working for Hoipolloi, for now. I am refusing to articulate this fact with any degree of finality, as I feel sure that I'll stay in touch with everyone at the company and work with them again before too long, in some capacity or another.

I have an anecdote which I've found myself referring to a lot whilst working for the company, or when I explain to people what Hoipolloi means to me. This feels like a good time to share it with the wider world.

In 2007 I visited the Edinburgh Fringe and saw Hugh Hughes in Story of a Rabbit. (I was already a Hoipolloi fan, having seen Floating and My Uncle Arly on previous tours.) That hour in Pleasance Two remains one of the most unforgettable experiences I've ever had at the theatre. Like so many who've seen the show, I laughed and I cried. And I cried and I cried and I cried.

When I left the theatre and shook hands with Hugh, I wanted to tell him that he'd completely altered my perspective on theatre. Sadly I couldn't because I was still crying and also feeling a bit embarassed because I was covered in tears and snot. My equally snot-covered friend Hannah and I staggered into the sunlight and sat down with a drink to calm our nerves. We continued crying for at least 20 minutes, during which time a number of people tried to flyer us for shows, only to find two weeping individuals, sobbing into pints.

Less than twelve months later I was at the National Theatre Studio working on Hugh Hughes' future production Invisible Town. About 18 months later I was creating 360 with Hugh, for which I'm now credited as an Artistic Collaborator. If you'd tapped me on the shoulder, as I sat at that table crying, and told me that I'd be working with Hugh within a year, I'm sure I wouldn't have believed you.

I probably don't need to say (and wouldn't be able to find the words anyway) how much those experiences have meant to me.

As well as loving every minute I've spent with the creative team at Hoipolloi, I need to say a huge thank you to Simon my 'boss' for the year and a wonderful mentor. And we're all bidding a fond farewell to Louise Coles who has been Hoipolloi's Administrative Director for the past five years. Louise boarded a plane for Perth two days ago. She's returning to her native Australia after several decades away, to run Perth's Blue Room. We all wish her the best of luck!

So here's to Hoipolloi, to Louise, to Edinburgh and to what is sure to be a fun-tastic final performance of 360 tonight. Hugh's been hinting that he has something special planned. I dread to think...