'Sometimes international theatre can make you see things differently'

That’s what PAF said when we were considering what to go and see in London. She’d sent me a link to ‘Nine Hills, One Valley’ which was playing at the Barbican Theatre, and I expressed concern that it looked ‘a bit weird’ and wasn’t in English. But I decided to give it a go, as it had the advantage of being all of two minutes from her door.

Now, I’ve been to the Barbican quite a few times, as it used to be the London home of the RSC. So I’m familiar with it’s stage door too. It’s 25 years old this year, and, like the rest of us, it’s showing it’s age. The first time I went there, it all seemed so ultra-modern and high tech (I loved then, and still do, the way that all the doors close simultaneously before the start of a show), now it’s looking a little faded, and stuck in a bit of a time warp.

As I settled in my seat, looking at a bare stage, I remembered other productions I’d seen there. A fantastic Merry Wives, The Dream, a fabulous Goldoni play, The Venetian Twins, when David Troughton almost ended up sitting on my knee. As the production began, I quickly realised that I was better off thinking back to the glories of the past.

What was it like? Well, there was a lot of wailing, and it must be a language with very long words, as they’d wail for about 5 minutes, and you’d get one short surtitle. I don’t think I’ll be going to Manipur for my holidays as they don’t seem a barrel of laughs I’m sure if you come from there, it was deep and meaningful, but I’m afraid it left me cold. It seemed to do the same to the rest of the audience, as, by 30 minutes in, they were leaving in droves. We stuck it out, mainly because I can’t do that to the performers, however bad it is. The audience were so baffled, no one realised when it had finished, so we ended up applauding an empty stage! The Guardian seemed to quite like it, but they make the point that you need to read the programme beforehand to have any clue what it's all about. Unfortunately we didn't have time.

In hindsight, it was quite funny. I’d totally missed the point of one key section (or at least I was told so – I think my thoughts were in a wood somewhere outside Athens by that point). As we left (thankfully it was only 90 minutes), I headed straight for the bar, and the vodka cocktail special. I needed it.