Katie’s always got her inspiration, for theatre projects and holidays, from slightly leftfield sources, but even I was surprised when she started getting ideas about going to Gleneagles for a holiday (activities include horse riding, falconary, shooting, and of course golf) from opening junk mail. Not her own personal junk mail; no, it was addressed to the previous resident of this house. So now she’s getting holiday ideas from other people’s mail. Please, people, update your databases! I don’t want to pretend to be interested in a timeshare just to get a cheap hotel room offered to someone who’s cats were responsible for making my house stink (to whom, however, I probably partly owe gratitude for reducing it’s cost).
It was a novel experience to witness a TV studio in action. Moreover, to walk around the set, eavesdrop the the producer chatter, get huge foam hands signed by the presenter (Ian Wright) and meet lycra clad human bulldozers. After ages away from our screens, Gladiators is back.
We had production passes, which meant we could escape to the office to sip wine during the intervals rather than sweat under the blaze of hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of lighting and pyrotechnics. A few hours and four games was great; I’m just glad I wasn’t having to keep up that level of clapping for ad-breaks past midnight last night.