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Feature: Preview - Voyages at Kings Place July 23

A THREE-part  play to help raise funds for the humanitarian disaster in Somalia is due to be performed on Saturday at Kings Place, the performing arts venue in York Way. Written by King’s Cross-based poet and playwright Rob Inglis, Voyages features stories based on a nautical theme – Christopher Columbus, Captain Cook and the 800 rivers that traverse Bengal.

Famine is threatening the lives of at least 12 million people in the East African state and the Disasters Emergency Committee, which brings together leading humanitarian  charities, is desperate to raise funds.

Mr Inglis said the play – due to be performed by Somers Town theatre companies The Musical Flying Squad and Onusheelon – was partly inspired by his own voyage to the British Isles more than 50 years ago.

It was 1955 and Mr Inglis was living in Newcastle, Australia. He was working for a newspaper but found it hard to save money to fulfil his dream of seeing the world. Instead, 

he befriended sailors who stopped off at the port and was promised a tip-off if they heard of jobs coming up.

One day, Rob was told that two sailors on  the Swedish trading vessel “The Cumulus” planned to jump ship and if he turned up he may find a working passage.

“I travelled for five weeks washing dishes in the galley until the ship docked in Hull,” he recalls. “We went across the Indian Ocean and along the east coast of Africa, where I first saw Somalia. Then we headed through the Suez Canal and to the north of England. 

“This experience has inspired this work.”

• Profits from programme sales will go to DEC (Disasters Emergency Committee) East Africa Crisis Appeal. 

You can also make a donation directly to them by phoning 0370 6060 900.  

• Voyages will be performed in Hall 1, Kings Place, 90 York Way, N1, on Saturday July 23, 11.30am. The performance is free but a ticket is needed via the box office: 020 7520 1490 

‘Somali Sandstorm’, by Rob Inglis

I first saw the coast of Somalia
from the deck of a Swedish freighter,
as we sailed into a sandstorm,
passing the dhows with russet sails
that carved through the grit of the golden 
haze.
They seemed on course for eternity
and nothing could ever change that scene.

Then the curtains of sand were drawn aside
and there on the Horn of Africa
were a host of black clad riders,
like statues defying death and time.
But hate like a sandstorm has blinded them
and arms from eastern and western blocs
converted the Horn to a devil’s dock. 

Published: 21 July, 2011
by DAN CARRIER

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