All the beds I have slept in:
A charpai on my roof in Afghanistan
A dirty bunk in a hostel in Milan
A sleeping bag in a tent going camping with my college
Under a bridge in Liverpool Street on my first day in England
A bed that wasn’t a bed
From a flat in North London to the exercise yard of a Greek detention centre, beds anchor us to the various points of the journey. Supposed spaces of safety become transient; shelters are taken away without notice; and the route from one place to the next is fraught with obstacles.
This play is a shout-out to all the real people who kept the actors moving forward. It explores the hidden moments of hospitality that change the course of a journey, and how to repay them. The intimacy created between friends when family is absent, and how to stay hopeful in a scary world.