By Clifford McLucas
I was invited to this island.
It was the last stop on a journey that had taken in Norway, Sweden and Denmark.
I had set myself the task of visiting four directors of four European Theatre festivals, in a little more than a week.
My intention was to follow up their expressed interest in our work and to persuade them to commission us.
I had travelled by air to Oslo and then by train to XXXXXXX where I had two days of meetings and site visits. From there, at 5.30 in the morning, I went by train along the edge of a moonlit fjord back to Oslo where I caught a plane to Stockholm for other meetings. The next day, I flew to Arhus in Denmark and then by bus to the city centre where I was met by another festival director. After my meetings, I stood by the bus stop in temperatures that were at least ten degrees below freezing, caught the airport bus and flew to Amsterdam where I began making my way to this island.
>From Schiphol airport I took a train to XXXXX. I had to change trains in Amersfoort and Leeuwarden on the way to the ferry at XXXX.
I speak no Dutch and so I didn't understand that the carriage I was was to be disconnected and sent to Utrecht. I realised just in time to move into another carriage.
Continues at 
I was invited to this island.pdf
