Long Way Round (The UK and Ireland) - Episode 1: Preparation

As we begin to close in on the final few venues of this tour, I couldn't help but reflect on this wild ride - and thought I'd take you on the journey with me, in the spirit and style of The Long Way series.

But let me back up for a second and explain myself.

Lately I've been obsessing over motorcycles. It started during lockdown when I was playing a video game called Days Gone, an open world game that takes place during a zombie apocalypse where you ride around on a motorcycle. I found the idea of riding one so adventurous and exciting, but the risks and dangers of doing so started to outweigh the curiosity I had for them. But this year, I made a promise to myself that I would learn how to ride after this contract is through, and have booked my Compulsory Basic Training for the end of my birth-week in August.

From the Riverside Museum in Glasgow. You can see the bikes that Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman used in Long Way Round at the very top of this wall.

As you can imagine, I've been absorbing motorcycling content like crazy in excitement and anticipation to start my motorcycling journey.

I recently finished watching The Long Way Round and The Long Way Down, series on Apple TV where Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman travel long distances on motorcycles. In the former, they traveled from London all the way to New York - and in the latter they went from the northernmost point of Scotland - John O' Groats - to Cape Town in South Africa. I've just started the third series titled The Long Way Up - where the lads travel from Ushuaia in South America to Los Angeles, California. 

I couldn't help but draw parallels between these shows and my experiences of touring around the UK and Ireland. I, of course, am not as vulnerable as Mr. McGregor and Mr. Boorman on motorbikes - exposed to the elements and their surroundings. But the sense of adventure I've been getting from traveling around does match the feeling I got from watching this series.

First, there's making the preparations.

After receiving the score, I prepare for rehearsals - forming ideas for my interpretation of Thuy, and familiarizing myself with the music and the text. In the background, I am also searching for digs in each tour stop - ensuring I'm staying in clean and comfortable places, all the while staying within budget and within a reasonable distance from the theaters we're performing in. We then gather for rehearsals; meeting one another, looking at the designs of the set and costumes, learn music, do table work, block scenes, and ultimately form our version of Miss Saigon. The excitement and the anticipation is palpable. 

I've always loved rehearsing. The discovery, the conversations, and the deep diving into the material is what I love most about the process. I wasn't expecting the amount of detailed work that went on in this particular case. But because it's a brand new production, it was necessary and important. Typically, on these big-budget commerical musicals, you're told to stand here, then move on this line, then when you sing this lyric, do this gesture; hyper-specific direction, but then that meant you're left to fill in the details as to why you move, why you do this gesture on this line - which is a fine creative exercise, but it does leave you with a lack of ownership over the role. 

Not this time. I felt like that I could truly put my stamp on this role and call it mine. It was the most comfortable I felt in a rehearsal room where I could truly ask questions and challenge anything that didn't feel authentic to me. The discussions that I had with our director and Julianne (who plays Kim) were fruitful. I do feel that I was able to give Thuy the dimension and complexity that he deserves, and not make him an outright villain. 

I remember being released for lunch early whilst the ensemble worked on the choreography for "Morning of the Dragon." I went up to the second level platform and watched them work from above as they were working on a section that involved holding assault rifles. All of a sudden, I was Thuy - the commisar - observing his soldiers training. I quickly noted the feeling and the observation in my rehearsal notebook like the nerd I am.

As the final day of rehearsals approaches, stress runs high and doubts begin to form. This is a feeling that I've gotten used to - it has happened in almost every contract that I've done. When it's crunch time, things will inevitably get tense. It doesn't help when the producers are in the room to watch the run-through.

A director on another show I did once said to the cast: "We can either panic and despair or just crack on." It sounded silly at the time, especially when you consider the fact that we were behind schedule. It ended up being a decent production, and got rave reviews - even from my highly-critical director wife. It's a mindset that I've learned to keep not only for situations in the rehearsal room, but in life.

In the end, the run-through felt good. At lunch, our music supervisor pulled me aside and said "They love what you're doing. And every time we run it, it sounds better each time."

I needed that boost of confidence.

Before I knew it, I was packing my bags and saying goodbye to my wife and cat. Standing in King's Cross Station waiting for my train to Newcastle, I felt like how I imagined Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman felt when they left on their first long-distance motorcycle trip in Long Way Round - minus the motorbikes.

The adventure was about to begin.