SORRY, I DISAPPEARED

Welcome to ‘Sorry, I Disappeared’ - part of the ‘Walk This Play’ series by ThickSkin.

For the next forty-five minutes or so, you will walk and listen to a story unfold. If you look at your phone, you will see an orange line and a marker that shows your position. To stay on track, just follow the line. The orange line will pass through a number of zones. When you walk into a new zone, the next part of the story, or an instruction, will play.

If you follow the directions, you will end up back at Derbion Shopping Centre.

While you walk, the regular rules of the road apply. Be safe, be aware and use crossings where you can.

If the character tells you to stop or wait, find a safe spot until they give you the next instruction. Take in the sights and look around you. The story will wait for you, and you can travel at your own pace.

You are standing under the metal hoops outside the shopping centre in the circle on the map. Wait there, and the experience will start shortly.

Official Derby Walk: Welcome to Derby! Don’t be fooled by those yellow cabs over there, it’s not New York City, it’s the UK’s most central city, Derby. A great place for Culture, (a crackle of interference) home to Derby County Football Club – ‘The Rams’, (more interference) and one of the birthplaces of the industrial revolution

Elle Hello?

Official Derby Walk: We’re going to spend the next 40 minutes or so introducing you to/

Elle Hello?

Official Derby Walk: …this beautiful asset to the United Kingdom. I’ll take you through its key landmarks and the industrial and cultural heritage/ of this fantastic city.

Elle Surprise! It’s me.

Official Derby Walk: We want you to make yourself at home here, you’re welcome.

Elle I’m not there. Not right now. I had no way of knowing when you’d turn up. I really hope this is working. But If you’re listening to this – then it’s working, I knew you’d be enough of a geek to do the walking tour. It’s what we always did wasn’t it. New place, new tour, try and settle in. Don’t worry, it’s just for you this. Basically, I’ve hacked into the walk, completely overwritten it actually. But only for you. I hoped you’d try and track me down. And you did, you made it. Sorry I disappeared like that. It was just terrible timing you showing up on that day. You know I’d do anything for you (Of course I would, what are big sister’s for?) but I just couldn’t stay. This is where I’ve been posted and I wanted to introduce you to it. Show you it my way. You said you needed a new start… So this is it, Derby, an alternative history.

You’re under the sort of slinky structure right? So, put your back to the taxi rank and the zebra crossing, keep the gym on your right and walk along the high street down the hill.

I’ve kept some of the official walk but only a few interesting tit bits otherwise I’ve reimagined it, it’s my own take on things.

You always loved it when I told you stories. Made you feel safe when mum and dad weren’t around. So here are your stories.

I’ve been very… creative with the truth. Hope you like it. Fun right? I thought that would be fun. Like an easter egg hunt or a trail of breadcrumbs. Retracing my steps. Seeing it through my eyes. I know it can be frustrating starting again in a new place but- I’m here. I’m here with you. You’re not alone.

Elle ‘I am the lady of the lamp, national heroine and famously nice and clever person’. ‘Hey! Up here, up to your right, can you see me? Carved in stone and protected by my special net. Stand somewhere you can see me.’

Official Derby Walk Florence Nightingale ‘The lady with the lamp’ is etched in history as the founder of modern nursing, she tended to soldiers during the Crimean war and was a renowned scholar, statistician, theorist and social reformer but most people don’t know that her early years, were spent in Derbyshire.

Elle Florence was cool, she helped a lot of people, she crops up a lot around here, they’re very proud of her and so they should be but the next bit of the walk is really dry. I’m pretty sure you’re not that interested in Derby’s ‘population growth’ or ‘annual precipitation’, I’ve got something better to show you.

Let’s leave the official route and go off the beaten track a bit, turn left past the church, head towards the red brick floor and the black-and-white building. Look up there is a ‘Thurman and Marlon’ sign, cross to the right hand side and keep going you should see an older building ahead of you, with plants and trees poking out of it.

Elle Says Walkers on it now, but it used to be the Derby Hippodrome, funny name isn’t it. It must have something to do with real hippos. Hippo fights, or eating competitions to see which hippo could gobble the most food, with wranglers pumping on their tails for encouragement. Got to be careful with hippos though, loads of people still die every year from hippo related incidents. More than any other animal, unless you count like mosquitos and tapeworms and dogs and stuff. I guess that’s why they stopped doing it all and decided to turn it into a theatre instead.

Stop when you get to the corner. Stay on this side of the road by the sandy building with the arches and pillars that’s the best place to look at it. Cool isn’t. Walkers. I like the idea of theatres. A place where people can gather together to hear stories. To feel something. To learn truths about themselves they didn’t know before and discover what it is like to live in other people’s shoes. Turns out they should have stuck to the hippos, because no one goes the theatre either. But now it has been given over to nature. A monument to the earth, and the natural world. Insects, rodents, plants… have taken control. They’ve crawled into the smallest spaces, clinging to bits of brick and crumbling mortar, winding themselves around smooth wooden beams made from long forgotten trees, long lost members of the same family. Squeezing and pushing, buffeted and broken, but always rebuilding. Fresh greens emerging from brown sludge, climbing to poke out of different shaped windows, searching for the light. Taking a place that no one else wanted and making it their home.

Let’s keep moving, leave nature to it, turn right and walk down the hill. We’re going to go left at the end.

Elle Turn left here, towards the bus stops. Lots of comings and goings here, beginnings and endings – journeys. Everyone’s in transit trying to get somewhere or trying to get home. Work, school, visiting friends or family, all obsessed with the destination and not paying attention to the ride. I like to watch the people. It’s remarkably easy to disappear you know, to blend in. You think people would notice you watching them or realise that you don’t quite fit in here, but they don’t. It’s amazing what people don’t see. Heads down going about their business. Keep going, stay on the pavement. Past the bus stops. Do you remember when we were kids and we would watch the world go by from the car and imagine that the music from the radio was the soundtrack of the things we were seeing. Perfectly orchestrated. Like our very own film score. I still do that. Look. Look how the buses move in time and the people arrive and leave like they’ve been perfectly directed. Everything is choreographed, timed just right. Stop for a moment what else can you see? Are the traffic lights changing when they should? Is the bunting overhead shimmering in rhythm? Is anyone walking… dancing in time? See? It’s all just as it should be. Reassuring right? Let’s carry on along this pavement. Walk in time. Past the turtle.

Can you see that big turret rising above the buildings? The clock face should be coming into view, and disappearing behind the trees. Stop by the little crossing, don’t cross yet. Stand by the gates in between their green columns and take a look at that big building opposite.

I can’t help but feel like it’s trying to make up for something. It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s trying too hard. There’s a bit of a habit of doing that in this country, but I think it’s pretty common to all civilisations. If you want to show off and tell people you’re doing something very important, then build a big imposing building. The bigger the building, the more important you think you are. The problem is, by making them so grand and important it makes some people feel like they’re not welcome. If you haven’t been born into believing that you deserve this sort of grandeur then stay away, it’s only for us clever people. And the thing is these buildings want you to come in, it’s bloody free a lot of it! To see the paintings and moments captured in objects, people’s old rubbish, broken, discarded, thrown away, and seen through new eyes centuries later. That’s why this building was given to the city in the first place. And so, I’m giving you permission. I’m inviting you in. Next time you see a building like this I want you to know you’re very welcome. It’s not too big, or beautiful, or mahogany, or whatever, it’s as much yours as anyone else’s. Come on in and say hello. Not right now though. You’re busy, and there’s some interesting stuff right around the corner. Cross the road when it’s safe and turn left, walk alongside the building, take in all it’s beautiful detail on the way. It’s there for you, stained glass windows, tiny detailed bricks. Keep going, and into the square on your right.

Official Derby Walk Here we have the statue of Michael Thomas Bass- an English brewer and a Member of Parliament. First elected in 1848, an orthodox Liberal supporting free trade, low taxes and improving living standards for the working class. He promoted a popular legislation to abolish imprisonment for small debtors, although his legislation against organ grinders on the grounds that they were street nuisances was less successful…

Elle Made me think – Bass, can that be a coincidence? I don’t think so. What if… What if he wanted to get those organ grinders off the streets and into the clubs?! What if really, he was a music lover, way ahead of his time? A pioneer of the deep thumping bass.

Sampling traditional music Remixing it Adding beats and most importantly BASS. Drum and Bass or is it ‘Derby and Bass’? I bet this man knew how to groove. Look at him, foot out, tapping in time to the beat.

People probably said his music was ‘loud’ and ‘difficult’, like all true artists Bass wasn’t appreciated in his lifetime. There are no recordings, all evidence of Bass’ efforts faded from existence, but I like to think it would’ve sounded something like this:

Put your hands in the air for MTB Can I get a …(woop woop?) Have a little groove for MTB Get liberal! Tap your feet! Improve your living standards, have a dance. Shandies all round! Free yourself!

Dance with Michael Thomas Bass. Turn around, dance to the museum, it’s free!

See that little alleyway on your left, dance to that! Actually, go through it. Use the arrow that says museum entrance. On to the street and turn right. It’s a tricky bit this. Follow the fossils on the floor. We’re going to cross at the traffic lights, dead ahead, not the ones on the left. We’re going to turn right, behind the opticians.

Don’t take the road with the big orange buildings on it, ‘cruise’ onto the orange bricks, the road with all the different shops and all their different colours. I love this street. This is how to make buildings look inviting. Walls shrugging up against each other, rubbing shoulders with their neighbours. Jumbled rooftops protecting precious contents. I could tell you the stories of the people who live here, the body piercer, the jeweller, the bartender, their joys and tears, but where’s the fun in that? You were always shy around new people, probably because you weren’t really invited, but mum always insisted ‘Take your little brother with you, it’s good for him.’ And once you got talking, I’d have to drag you away. Well, this time you can don’t need me to be the one starting the conversation. You know where to find them now, you can search out those stories another time.

Elle Turn right here, head down over the red bricks, towards the benches and the round structure. See that spot on your left? In front of the green arch things. Go and stand there. Right in the middle, on the spot. And turn and look around. Really look. It feels like the centre of the universe. I can hear the twinkle and roar of the stars from here. Way beyond the clouds, the thunderous noises from above the skies. You can see life in front of you. Scurrying about its business, all individuals but moving like one gigantic being. Pulled together by some unknown force. Entwined cycles and circles together. And the sound from here is incredible, there’s some special space alignment thing or something. Face the curved wall behind you and make a sound. Go on, make a sound, shout, whistle, whatever make sure you’re right on the spot. Did it work? It’ll sound unlike anything you’ve heard anywhere else. I love standing here, feeling both totally on show and thoroughly invisible.

Walk through the gap in the wall and turn to your left. Quirky aren’t they. Do you think they have little stone bodies buried in those bricks or did only their faces make it? You can look at them, don’t worry they can’t hurt you. They’re stuck like that forever, every expression, every wrinkle, frozen in time. Choose one, go really close, go on look one in the eye. See anything? Feel anything? Did you know this is actually a fountain? I heard there was a spirit, some kind of fountain creature. The spirit of the running water. The fountain was hers and she kept it moving. The running water reminding us to keep going, soothing us with the notion that everything passes, nothing is forever. She loved hearing the thoughts of the people staring into the fountain and letting them know that everything, in time, would be ok. One day, out of nowhere the water was turned off. In her anger at the human council, who didn’t want to pay the bills, the fountain spirit trapped all the people who were staring at the fountain in that moment. Anyone who was still and dwelling on something. And here they are, she’s keeping them forever to guard her solitary dry fountain, as a reminder. A warning. Better move on then in case she sees you stopped for too long. Look up to your left, see that massive building with the clock and the weathervane head towards it, where it says market hall entrance.

Go left, through the arches. I like arches, the anticipation of what’s beyond, light flooding in as you emerge into a new place. Like coming up from water, or waking from a deep sleep, I always feel slightly different on the other side. Left again, see the mother and the child, head towards them.

I like this little kid. Barely one and looks like it’s conducting an orchestra! Mum must be so proud. I know we’re supposed to think about sacrifice here. A terrible sacrifice made by so many. Those that bravely decided to participate and those that had it decided for them. But looking at this statue it makes me think about family. About parents and children, about care and frustration. The look in the parent’s eyes, they’ll do anything for that kid, and it doesn’t even care. Crying in the middle of the night and the parents crying too. Growing, changing, learning, becoming something new, finding new skills and all the while trying to raise a child and just doing your best not to break them. That’s why I like that the little naked kid’s conducting. The little one is in charge. The parent watching, the rest of the family, all its future friends and lovers, ready, tuning up. And all the while letting the child work it out for themselves. Letting them fail. And, hopefully one day, letting them succeed. That’s what I see anyway…

Head to the left of the statue, through the trees look down, you’ll start to notice stars on the floor. Jack O’Connell, carry on through the trees.

Official Derby Walk Derby’s ‘Made in Derby’ trail celebrates people ‘Made in Derby’. People who have made a huge impact on city and helped Derby make its mark on the world. This trail of mosaic and cast-iron stars line the streets. Hollywood style!

Elle Stars are really important. Not just the ones on the floor but the real things too. Keep walking past Karam Singh, around the curve and up the hill.

Why am I telling you all these stories? I’ve been thinking a lot about truth recently. What does it mean? What is reality, fact, science? And when does it become just someone’s take on something? When is it a story? I noticed that lots of the stars were real people who did like traditionally important stuff: science, industry, politics, sport, you know. But then there are the others: stars for being artists. Imaginers. For being creative with the truth and showing us the world through their eyes. Over the road there, in front of the music shop there’s a star for Lara Croft, (The Lara Croft. You know, boobs, tomb raider) a fictional character! I love that she has a star and I love Derby for it too. Someone dreamt her up and there she is, she’s important. She’s not from here, it’s not about location it’s about ideas. I can get on board with that. Carry on walking up the hill and you’ll see Florence on the floor again, can’t forget her. The stars, they’re linking it all. Science, art, truth, stories. Set in stone and iron on the ground, a statement that they all matter. Let’s hang out with Florence for a minute, stand by her star. Look at that building in front of you, how’s that for a statement? Built on top of a hill, the tallest most important thing in the area, facing the sunrise. In fact it’s-

Official Derby Walk The second largest perpendicular church tower in England. Listen out for the bells too - they are the oldest set of 10 bells in the world, one of which was cast in 1520, during the reign of Henry VIII, making it one of the oldest working objects in Derby.

Elle Now I’m not a big one for religion, but they do understand the power of stories. If you control the stories, you can control the thoughts. Means places like this become factories for thoughts. Now that can be great. About caring for others, charity or community. But in the wrong hands it can be twisted, it can also be about power. About dominance. It’s pretty dominant this building isn’t it. Let’s leave it behind. Come on, turn right down Amen Alley. I prefer subtle statements, not all bells and whistles. Amen to that! Let’s take our stories with us.

Elle Turn left at the end, see that bloke on a horse? Go and see him. Careful crossing the road.

Official Derby Walk Charles Edward Louis John Casimir Sylvester Severino Maria Stuart. Was more aptly and succinctly nicknamed – Bonnie Prince Charlie. This, the only equestrian statue of the prince depicts / him during the Jacobite rising of 1745.

Elle Now this is more like it. Bonnie Prince Charlie, a real crowd pleaser. Have a little walk around him take in his full splendour. He invented dressage, you know that weird horse dancing stuff that you see at the Olympics. Making horses do mind bending things for no discernible reason. Well, that was this dude. He was trying to find a way to seem even more fabulous. Wasn’t satisfied flouncing round court, needed more attention, needed a stage. So popped himself onto a horse and strutted out. I don’t see why he gets all the credit, it’s the horse that does all the work. Yet the horse’s name isn’t even on the stone. Does my head in.

See what I mean about stories… That’s obviously not really who he was, though he did think he was pretty fabulous. And he was looking for a bigger stage. Problem was, that was an entire country. Thought he had the divine right from god to the whole of the UK, (told you religion was tricky) tried marching and fighting his way through it. I don’t really think anyone deserves an entire country, or has the right to it. They called him the ‘young pretender’ which sort of romanticises all the bloodshed. They weren’t big on keeping the peace in those days. Take the left path behind him through the grass.

Official Derby Walk This, the only equestrian statue of the prince depicts him during the Jacobite rising of 1745. He set up camp in Derby on his way south to seize the British throne. This ‘young pretender’ believed he was the legitimate heir to the throne according to the Jacobite succession but his attempts failed and despite significant blood shed he survived and eventually escaped to France, effectively ending the Stuart claim.

Official Derby Walk Ahead of you you’ll see the brand-new Museum of Making, showcasing the region’s 300-year history of making, celebrating its rich history of innovation. This museum, built by the people and industries of Derby, will inspire visitors to unleash their creativity and start making. Head down towards it’s iconic 18th century Bakewell gates. The museum is aptly housed in the Derby Silk Mill which is widely regarded as the site of the world’s first modern factory. In 1717, Derby was the site of the / first water-powered silk mill in Britain built by John Lombe and George Sorocold.

Elle Look out over the vast paved space towards the bridge. Can you see a sparkle? Someone’s peppered some glittery bricks in here. I like to think it was someone like us. Leaving messages for each other, a trail of sparkly hope. I think they’re like little moments of joy, popping out at us. Twinkling with possibility. If you stand back from them, all the different colours make different shapes. They look connected, like constellations. You could make your own path from one to the next, choose which way you go. Go on, make your pathway amongst them, connect them. Make your way towards the bridge but join the dots, make your own constellation, leave a trail of sparkly hope.

See, we’re making choices, a series of small decisions that eventually get us somewhere. If you stand back from it you can see it for what it really is. Sometimes you have to stand away from something to see the bigger picture. And realise that it’s about more than just me and you. And that’s what I’m having to do, take a step back.

Take the path to the right of the bridge past the graffiti and walk along the river. I made some music for the next bit, just some thinking time really, a chance to take it all in and think about the bigger picture.

Elle Cross the road then carry on down the ramp or steps, along the river. Pause, take a breath. Take it in. It’s beautiful isn’t it? So many birds. So well-travelled but looking very at home here. It’s amazing how they just know where to go, which way to fly, following the rivers and coastlines and trusting their instinct. Migration is adaption you know, it’s survival, they go because they have to. Just like me. Head along the path, stay next to the river.

You see this turtle. It looks at home right, like this is the place he was always supposed to be. Looking forward, seeing what’s coming. But if you trace its path you’ll see its continuing on its journey. Creeping forward, not knowing what’s coming, but pioneering through. Because that’s what we do isn’t it. We keep moving. Try new things, find out for ourselves where we fit in to this crazy world. Can you see, in the distance, this turtle is not alone? Head towards its friend, along the river. They started together and even though they’re apart now, they’re still connected. There’s a concrete line that’ll link them forever. However far they go, they won’t forget their past. You can almost trace their routes back through time and space. Those memories, those shared stories, they won’t evaporate into thin air, they will remain in the stones and waters and mouths of all those who were there. Everyone who played their parts and those that listened, moulded it, shaped it by their tongue and passed those stories on.

Keep going along the river, turn right. We’re going to leave the water behind. Over the hump.

We’re going back towards the city now, between the buildings past the five neat trees on your right.

Elle Cross the road. And carry on forward. I made this walk for you, but I also made it for me. I couldn’t deal with the thought of you feeling alone or thinking that I didn’t care. Because I love you, and I’m sorry I’m not there, not in the flesh anyway. I’ve had to move on, I’m working on the bigger picture but I think you’ve worked that out already. You’ve followed me this far, not just on this walk, I think you’ve been following me your whole life. Always glued to me waiting to see what your big sister would do next, finding comfort hiding in my shadow. But this is it, this is where that stops, you can’t follow me anymore. I can’t tell you where I am or when I’ll be back, but I guess what I’ve been trying to tell you, to show you is: it’s going to be alright.

Head to that lumpy stone figure ahead of us. The Ram. Go around to the front of it. Plant your feet and look in its eyes. Can you feel it? The strength. I want you to be this ram, it’s not bothered by rain or snow or anything else that is thrown at it at 2am. It’s made this spot its own, and it’s as much a part of this place as the soil deep below the ground, or the stars way above your head. Calm, confident, proud and inquisitive. Curious about what’s coming but not forgetting what’s gone before. Like the turtles, and the birds and the shifting stars, finding new homes and continuing ever on. Look to your right.

Follow the trail of stars up towards the shopping centre. We’re made out of atoms and elements that were created during the birth of stars, did you know that? We are literally created out of stars, which means we all have potential. I think that’s what it means. Every time you look down at these stars I want you to imagine what you could be. And at night when you look up you can think of me, we’re connected me and you, we’re our own constellation, nothing can change that. We have our past, and now you have these stories, they’re here when you need them, when you need me. But you have a fresh start here in Derby. Seize it. Thrive. Stand on your own two feet and forge your own star. We can’t control much, where we’re born, who our family is, how people see us but, there are some things we can control: how we see things, and what we choose to create. There’s space for you here, you’re welcome here. Be creative. Go on. Make your own story.

Thank you for experiencing ‘Sorry I Disappeared’, a Walk this Play production by ThickSkin, in association with Derby Theatre.

This play was inspired by the experiences of new arrivals in Derby and was performed by: Ajjaz Awad, Sean McKenzie and Me: Gabib Gadzhialiev.

It was Co-Written and Directed by Jess Williams and Michael Beigel and the sound design and composition was by Lee Affen.

The Producer was Ailbhe Treacy.

We’d love to know what you think about the journey. You can leave feedback by clicking on the link in the app.