Rehearsals start properly - in earnest, as they say (though I don't feel very earnest) - this afternoon.

And I'm inanely insanely excited.

I don't quite know why.

It's not like I've never done a show before.

It's not like there aren't things I'd rather be doing with my Sunday afternoon slash evening.

I could be sitting on the jetty from our lovely hotel stretching out over the sea looking at the bay and the beach in the sun in Baracoa.

But I'm not.

And right now, this feels like a pretty good second best.

I'm pretty well-organised by my standards which helps.

Slavish work this weekend (not easy in a train's airline seat sat next to a sweet young thing with an abundance of copies of trashy magazines) has meant I'm only a couple of scenes short of transcribing my Cuban blocking onto my rehearsal script.

And I've got a rather fantastic cast which always makes it a bit more of a breeze.

Oh but look.

Little Miss Complacent almost just left her prize transcribed script on the bus. An ooops and a skip back and disaster was averted. This will teach me to revel in my good fortune.

Anyway, now, I'm here.

Time for a Turkish coffee and then, to play.