The dark autumnal night disappears behind me as I cross a cobbled street and enter the glow of the oldest theatre in the English-speaking world, the Bristol Old Vic.

This warm threshold has watched folks come and go for centuries. The historic walls have witnessed the origin stories of British acting royalty time and again, from Olivia Colman to Sir Patrick Stewart.

Tonight, I’m welcomed in from the cold with a smile by Nancy Medina, the Old Vic’s artistic director.

Three years into her tenure in this prestigious post, Nancy tells me that her central ambition is to diversify stories in theatre.

The challenge she has set herself, she explains, is to put value into new writing, stories and voices that can become the “classics of the future”.

“I think that we are very reliant a lot of times in the theatre of bringing back the old titles over and over again, and some of them I absolutely understand why, because they’re just wonderful masterpieces. But I sometimes think we need to make space for the future masterpieces,” Nancy adds.

Nancy’s aim to “tell the stories of who we are” takes centre stage in the flagship production of the season, Lanny, which she directed.

The dark and enchanting drama is an adaptation of the Booker prize nominated novel by Max Porter. It tells of a city family’s relocation to a Somerset village steeped in superstition where the locals’ increasingly overt racism and homophobia runs as rife as their haunting tales of a woodland boogeyman.

Since moving to the UK from America 18 years ago, Nancy has been spellbound by English and Welsh folklore.

“There is so much magic here in the South West and I just wanna see more of it on our stages.

“Why that feels sort of slightly hidden away in the rest of the country, I don’t know, but it feels so palpable here.

“It’s a huge ambition for us here at Bristol Old Vic to tell more West Country stories and to really platform that there is so much originality here,” she adds.

Nancy defines folklore as the stories that we tell about ourselves.

“I really think you understand so much about a people when you understand what still exists and what we keep going.

“It’s really important to remember that we’ve existed and that we’ve had a moment in time as humans with other humans, and to continue that.”

Nancy has been surrounded by storytellers and storytelling for her entire life.

She has happy childhood memories of gatherings in her Latin American family’s New York City home.

She says: “Before I realised what theatre was and that theatre does this thing, I already knew what theatre was. It happened in my living room.”

Often accompanied by drums and guitars, her brothers and uncles would take it in turns to share stories.

“Bible stories were really important to my family. There is a real strong oral tradition in our culture and so there are just so many stories. The importance of it is that there is a gathering.”

Nancy’s father, a former professional dancer, encouraged his five children to dance and exchange stories rather than be glued to the television set.

“It was magic,” she sighs.

Nancy also spent a handful of formative early years in the Dominican Republic, her family’s ancestral home.

She delights in remembering “moments of wonder” with me, including playing chasing games with mischievous performers at the Dominican Carnival.

The Diablos Cojuelos (Limping Devils) wore monstrous masks and bright costumes with bells on.

Nancy says she leans into this visual aesthetic and Latin American-inspired magical realism in Lanny, infusing it into a scene where the summer solstice is celebrated by Somerset villagers.

“It is still one of the most magical things ever. You just had this carnival come to your front door, and you’re in it. You’re in the tradition and in the ritual of what this experience is.

“The ritual of it is very long and deep and has lots to do about who we are and enslavement, beating the oppressor and the stories we tell ourselves,” she reflects.

Nancy’s biggest inspiration today is new writers.

She says: “Writers to me are awe-inspiring human beings. It’s a real tender and vulnerable thing, and that inspires me as well — the bravery to do this thing for the first time together.”

Creating a 5 Year Commitment scheme at the Old Vic, Nancy has brought together four writers to invest in their careers and to help develop new British writing.

Now in its second year, Hannah Khalil, Sam Parker, Muneera Pilgrim, and Winsome Pinnock are all under commission.

Nancy teases that studio plays from Sam and Muneera will be announced soon.

At a recent week-long residential, Nancy says she “basked in their amazingness” as the writers shared skills, tools and read work aloud together.

Nancy set out to make the scheme an experiment in committing to the development “not of an idea, but of an artist”.

She explains: “That was really important to me, that it wasn’t gonna be like, ‘All right, let’s just choose these writers, and then we’ll tell them what to write.’ No.

“We’re choosing these artists because their voices are so strong. Now let’s support them and guide them to whatever they need to be talking about in this moment.

“You don’t know what you’re gonna get, but you trust that these writers are gonna deliver something amazing, and they already have.”

Looking back at her first three years as artistic director, Nancy says it’s been an “immense privilege”.

“I try to be as present as possible and really enjoy the fact that I get to do this, that I get to work in creativity all day long. And my highlight is always being in the rooms where workshops and R&Ds are happening.”

She is tight-lipped about a rehearsal for Cinderella she watched last week but grins about the “joyous” reimagining and its strong female protagonist: “Cinderella got a tongue on her!”

Like with Lanny, Nancy hopes this upcoming festive production will remind folks of “possibility and imagination”.

Finally, Nancy shares her thoughts on the difficult economic climate for creative organisations.

“It has been one of the toughest moments for the theatre industry.

“We need so much more money to actually accomplish the things that should be accomplished. But we do what we can.

“I continue to fight for the value of arts and artists. And if I can’t do that any more, then there’s a problem.”

She seeks to change minds that see theatre as dispensable or “something for the rich” and show instead that it can be “transformative for all of us in life.”

Nancy points to skills of empathy, confidence, and creativity that are nurtured in youth theatre groups. She sees these abilities transferring into other fields like the sciences and also helping young people grow into kind and well-rounded human beings.

“It keeps me energized, knowing that we’re fighting the good fight.”

I’m standing in a cavernous junkyard. To my left, a double-decker bus has crashed through a wall. Above me, hundreds of dangling milk bottles refract neon light. Mechanical sculptures whizz and whir. Inhabitants lurk in the shadows and chatter nervously about the power cuts.

This is Reclaimia, the fourth of five explorable districts in Absurd City, London’s newest immersive attraction where much of the scenery is beautifully repurposed from scrap materials.

My guide today is Graham MacVoy, the visionary behind this place, and he’s leading me through his 80,000-square-foot wonderland, a dystopian metropolis, with a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s.

“There’s so much creativity in here,” Graham beams. “The point is discovery and play and trying things out and not just being told what to do.”

He points to Disneyland’s “imagineers”, the famed theme park creatives, as a source of inspiration.

“For us, it’s about getting people together. And Boomtown’s the same,” the cofounder adds.

Absurd City was built by a startup called Wake The Tiger, which has been running a prototype attraction in Bristol for four years. It was conceived during the pandemic when Graham and his fellow Boomtown festival organisers were experimenting with new concepts.

Wake The Tiger first opened in a Boomtown-owned warehouse as a permanent home for the style of surreal scenic art that adorns the theatrical underground music festival. Today, it operates as the immersive Dream Factory, set in the same sci-fi world of Meridia as the London site.

“Bristol is a pioneering city,” Graham says. “It leads the way in terms of culture, protest, music and art. I think that Wake the Tiger exemplifies what Bristol stands for.”

Graham moved to Bishopsworth in Bristol twenty years ago after snowboarding in the Alps for a decade. Prior to joining Boomtown, he helped produce numerous festivals from Bestival and Creamfields to Bristol Pride.

With an eight-figure price tag to justify, Graham is bullish that Wake The Tiger will become a top five tourist attraction in the capital.

Samantha Fay at Visit London predicts that Absurd City will be a big draw and a “great addition”. Her research shows that immersive experiences are “exploding” in popularity at the moment.

“I’m seeing a real shift in what people want,” she describes. “They wanna do something really different and memorable and to sort of explore and interact and discover. People don’t want to just watch stuff anymore.”

When it opens to the public, guests will roam free through Absurd City at their own pace.

Samantha defines Wake the Tiger as a “blend” of Alice in Wonderland, the world-building of Secret Cinema and an immersive exhibition she visited overseas called Meow Wolf.

Meow Wolf began as a scrappy cluster of Santa Fe artists in 2008 and has since expanded into five permanent venues across the United States. It has attracted 13 million guests to date and plans to open Los Angeles and New York City locations by 2028.

The company says its name has become shorthand for the entire category of “immersive” and points to its Denver location, with five floors of alien worlds, as its pièce de résistance.

Wake The Tiger recently faced accusations of copyright infringement from Meow Wolf, but the matter was settled confidentially in March 2025.

“It was very disappointing,” sighs Graham.

“They started around the same time as an art collective doing art stuff,” he explains. “Wake The Tiger has evolved out of British culture and came out of the underground rave scene and the skateboarding and snowboarding space.”

Homages to the Wake The Tiger’s origins are peppered throughout Absurd City, including a glowing installation from Boomtown and a light show created by the designers of Shangri-La at Glastonbury.

“We did our own thing. We’re really pleased for them doing their thing, but we’re doing our thing,” stresses Graham.

“Both have LED lights in them, so they’ve got a similar colour, but in terms of comparison to other things, I don’t think there’s anything like this in London, the UK or Europe.”

A Meow Wolf spokesperson says that bringing Meow Wolf across the Atlantic is a “long-held ambition”, but they have no concrete plans at the moment.

Catching our breath in the rave-themed cafe after a nearly two-hour walkabout, Graham reflects on the “marathon” it took to make Absurd City possible.

“To build a business in four or five years, to go from an empty warehouse in an industrial estate to something like this is a huge, huge achievement for everyone that’s been involved.”

He credits creative directors Summer Dean and Anya Tye, as well as narrative director Rob Morgan, for their close-knit teamwork, supportiveness and constant bouncing of ideas off of one another.

Under their watchful eye, hundreds of artists have spent a year painstakingly building the space’s installations and interactive elements. The finished product brings a “slice” of Graham’s in-progress trilogy of YA sci-fi novels about Meridia into the real world.

One of Graham’s goals is to creatively platform issues like climate change, inequality and social disconnection, as a “call to action wrapped in wonder”. In Absurd City, characters are racing to restore people’s freedoms and to reduce the population’s energy consumption.

Artist and former Disneyland imagineer Maggie Parr, who worked on scenery and rides all around the world, is fascinated by the concept of Wake The Tiger and its sustainability ethos.

She says: “I think that the salvage and upcycling really speaks to this moment where we, as a human species, are thinking a lot more about how our stuff becomes pollution and how we can reuse things.”

“Wake The Tiger is a really interesting idea. It seems to have more narrative, intention and even politics behind it. People who go to Disney definitely do not wanna think about politics or world issues. They want to be lost in fantasy,” Maggie chuckles.

“It’s about trying to plant a seed but without preaching,” Graham says. “When you do that, no one listens.”

Graham adds that Wake The Tiger has been “really hot” on following best practices championed by Disneyland imagineers like Maggie, including consistency of storytelling and an obsession with guest safety.

Mark Eades, retired Disney imagineer and theme park reporter, thinks that Absurd City’s Westfield London setting is “wonderful” because of the built-in utilities and parking.

He says: “There’s room for more of these kinds of places because people are desperately seeking to go to a place that gives them a family experience, kinda like Disneyland, but without the Disney expense.”

Graham adds: “We really believe we’ve delivered something that is going to appeal to all demographics and is suitable for all abilities.

“There aren’t many things that can genuinely tick that box, and for us it’s a big one and is a big part of the appeal.

“You can come with a kid and a grandparent and a teenager and everybody has fun.”

2003 was a stellar year for significant cultural moments on Earth.

The launch of the iTunes store kickstarted the era of digital media, The Da Vinci Code dominated bookshop shelves worldwide and Wicked’s witch defied gravity for the first time on Broadway.

Another captivating lift-off was the Beagle 2 on its mission to Mars. It was sent to search for evidence of life by drilling Martian rocks.

The probe touched down on December 25th — the first British and European spacecraft to land on another planet.

But at the time, no signal was returned to Earth. Heartbreakingly, scientists assumed the craft had crashed on the red planet and it was declared lost.

“My children still call it the Christmas that got cancelled,” reflects Chris Lee who worked on the mission and had gathered with scientists, reporters and celebrities on Christmas Eve to celebrate news of a successful landing. It never came.

“We were pretty miserable driving back to Bristol without the Christmas present we had all worked for.

“I remember walking in and explaining to the family what had happened. Someone put the kettle on.

“I was still hopeful we would find it.”

12 years later, they did. NASA imagery revealed the lander had touched down safely but a single solar panel malfunction prevented it from broadcasting.

While it was branded a failure at the time, the Beagle 2 is recognised today as a major and pioneering achievement.

This week, a Mars-red plaque was unveiled at a Bristol museum to honour the ambition and contributions of the British space engineers behind the project.

One of them, Bristolian Chris Lee, went on to take up the role of chief scientist at the UK Space Agency.

While there, he advised on “science strategy” and secured funding for space missions.

For the Beagle 2 project, Chris had worked closely with the late Colin Pillinger, a celebrated professor, to determine if his vision was viable.

Chris’ obsession with space research started at a young age.

He recalls being “enthralled” watching the 1969 moon landing on a black and white television set, aged 11.

“I remember wanting to know about the Moon and the science of the Moon. I was a youngster at the time collecting things like I Spy magazines, and I really wanted to know about craters on the Moon,” he laughs.

“I grew up wanting to become an astronomer and a space scientist because I was curious about the Moon, but never wanted to walk or live on the Moon.”

Chris maintains this distinction six decades on.

He cautions: “I’m not a fan of human colonies, human astronauts in space, and so on. Until we have learned to go out there as a community, as a whole, as humanity. At the moment, I’m worried we’re just gonna take our own current warfare ideas out into space.

“I am very concerned about the world that we are passing on to our grandkids.”

Chris hastens to add that he is encouraged by the climate community and the ability to use space technology to help us improve life on Earth.

He says: “I believe this to be so much more important than trying to figure out if we can live elsewhere on other planets.

“There is nothing more beautiful in the whole universe than one square kilometre of the worst environment on Earth you can imagine.”

Now retired, Chris spends his evenings looking up at Mars, and beyond, with a telescope in his back garden. He says it brings him both “mindfulness” and a “buzz”.

“You can go outside and you can look at galaxies colliding and stars being born. There’s so much going on up there that connects us all back to what’s going on down here.”

Chris lights up about the forthcoming ExoMars mission involving a new generation of Bristol engineers. The Rosalind Franklin rover should launch in 2028 and arrive on Mars in 2030.

He explains: “It will drill at least two metres into the surface, and so we will finally answer Beagle 2’s question.

“Was there potential for organic life to have formed on Mars, and therefore alien life on Mars?

“Frankly, that would be the most exciting science announcement of the century.”

With the boyish grin of a child on Christmas morning, Chris concludes: “My view is there was life on Mars and that eventually when we dig deep enough, we’ll find it.”

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