We are in our final location at the Everyman Theater in Cork. This stage is a perfect relic of the music hall era. All ornate gold and red velvet. Charlie Chaplin once played here. It is the smallest stage on our trip and a few more blocking adjustments were needed as we moved in. We have our new girls from Cork and they have added their magic to our story. It has been an ongoing joy to meet all these local girls and be impressed with how easily they jump into the play. And they have been a lively source of local information; patiently answering our cultural differences questions, asking questions of their own, and telling us where to go dancing on a Thursday night.
We have had large houses here in Cork. It’s the biggest town we’ve played. We had nearly 400 people Monday night! And as the theater, Shelbourne pub and our hotel are all steps from each other, the competition to drink 100 pints before we leave has heated up.
Local attractions are an easy bus ride from Cork. There have been trips to Kinsale, the Jamison distillery and of course, Blarney Castle. I kissed the Blarney stone twice, not because I needed more eloquence, but because I failed to notice that the photographer wasn’t present the first time through. So, up and down 167 steps again for my commemorative photo and certificate. It was worth it!
We have two more shows here. I have done some serious tourist and christmas shopping and am about to go across the river to the High Street to pick up another bag to pack up all these treasures . It’s time to start thinking about the trip home. We said good bye to our wonderful lighting designer, Mike O’Halloran last night. And soon we will have to leave behind Rae Visser, our stage manager who has become a dear friend and drinking companion.
As we leave, I am struck with the thought that all 17 of us have been together and we’ve all gotten along so well through all of this journey. This is an outstanding ensemble cast on and off stage and I am very proud to be a part of it.
Look out DC! Here we come!
Sally Cusenza (Sarah Good)