Spring has arrived in Theatre Village, and Grace Hatchell is finally shedding her winter postal coat, embracing lighter days, longer rounds, and a satchel full of fresh theatre finds.
Right then… I think it’s safe to say we’ve made it.
Winter is over.
And if you’ve never tried doing a full delivery round in a vintage navy postal coat that weighs about as much as a small panto horse when it’s soaked through… well, count yourself lucky. I’ve spent the past few months looking less like a theatre courier and more like I’ve taken a wrong turn on way to Arctic.
But not anymore.
Because spring’s crept into the village — quiet at first, like a shy understudy — and now everything just feels a bit lighter. Air’s softer, folk are smiling again, and even my satchel feels less like it’s trying to drag me back down the street.
And most importantly?
The coat’s gone.
Hung up. Retired. Still dripping in corner, I reckon.
Which means I can finally be me again — not “Grace Hatchell: Frozen Edition.”
There’s summat about this time of year, you know.
Theatres start stretching their legs again. New shows pop up like daffodils that didn’t ask permission. And I find myself walking a bit quicker on my rounds — not because I have to, but because there’s that feeling that summat’s brewing.
(And we all know what that something is…)
Edinburgh.
Now I’ll tell you straight — that is a trek.
From London up to Edinburgh with a satchel full of scripts, gossip, and the odd slightly crumpled flyer? It’s not exactly a gentle wander. But needs must, and all that.
And this Yorkshire gal? I don’t mind a bit of graft.
If there’s theatre to be found, I’ll get there — even if I arrive windswept, a bit peckish, and in need of a proper brew and five minutes to gather myself.
I’m still doing the rounds for 2nd Act Couriers, of course. Rain, shine, or that sneaky spring drizzle that pretends it’s “just passing through” (it never is). Village doesn’t stop, and neither do I.
But there’s a different energy now.
Less “brace yourself”
More “go on then, let’s see what’s about”
Also — and I feel I should mention this, as it’s been brought to my attention…
Apparently there’s another Grace Hatchell. In America according to Linked In.
Now I’m not one to make a fuss… but I’ve yet to see her hauling a satchel round cobbled streets, dodging pigeons, and delivering theatrical whispers before teatime.
So until proven otherwise, I’ll assume she’s doing her best… bless her.
If she ever fancies a shift on the North East route, she’s more than welcome. Though I’ll warn her now — Fringe season’s not for faint-hearted.
So yes… spring’s here.
Coat’s off.
Steps are lighter.
Satchel’s filling up nicely again.
And somewhere in distance, Edinburgh Fringe starting to call.
Right… best get on.
Village won’t cover itself, will it.
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