I remembered where to get off the bus. I remembered how to get to the Professional Entrance. I even remembered how to use the intercom.
“You’ve been here before haven’t you? You know where you’re going?”
The lady in the booth is right. I have previously ventured within the “Professional” section of Fox Studios. I am a returning member of the GNW-TV intern program. I have been to the offices, though not since they began producing Good News Week in 2008. I have been here before. Last time I got horribly lost. I should know where I’m going. I have my doubts. I’ve made it this far. It could still go horribly wrong.
But it doesn’t. In fact, I find myself walking nostalgically along the twisted road noting landmarks.
‘Look that’s the telegraph pole where that horrible man yelled at me for no apparent reason!’
Thursday could go jump. I was going to make it.
Without hitch I turned the corner into the corridor between two towering cement buildings. An open bridge connects the two at the second story. The only feature in the large orange-brown walls is low down on the right hand side. It is a small gun metal door, and it is slightly ajar. This is the most exciting door. The door to another world.
The offices of GNW-TV are smaller than I remembered them. They are darker. Slightly more dodgy. A bit grubbier. None of which detract from the magic of the place. It is a place where the cupboard doors are split at a diagonal. Where swear words are normal and champagne appears inexplicably at lunch time on Thursdays. It is a place where the printer is in a telephone box.
The intestine corridors are no longer a sickly green. Since I was last here they’ve been repainted a deep red. This does nothing to diminish the feeling that you’re inside some giant animal. An effect enhanced by the regularly strange and otherworldly sounds which issue from behind the many closed doors. At one point I walked past a unmanned room full of unidentifiable black equipment. Facing the open door was a medium sized computer monitor, from which Adam Hills meet my eyes and swore profusely for several seconds. Seriously.
But the best thing I found in those corridors was a couch. It was in the exact same place that I had encountered the magic couches before. This particular couch was purple, squarish and lumpy. Best of all someone had sawed it into five pieces. I was very sad to see its decapitated form disappear mysteriously some days later.
This is TV-land. Welcome back.
(Hello, if you’ve chanced upon this blog unexpectedly and found that none of this entry makes sense I recommend you read some of the others. In particular- Welcome. Or you could leave a comment telling me you don‘t understand. That would be ok too.)