Review: Departure, Ladycross Quarry, Northumberland
Sunday afternoon found me on a heathery knoll above a seething pond. “Frogs,” hissed the only other human occupant under her breath (we’d been told to be quiet, an order clearly unheeded in the water). “Mating.” Amorously alive, the turbulent pond groaned and quacked above the birdsong. First rule of theatrical presentations in the open …
