I’ve recently enjoyed a week’s break in reasonably sunny Cornwall with my family. As usual, the coastlines were picture perfect, the waves crushing against sedimentary rocks and the beaches occupied by a fair few locals and holiday makers. What I didn’t expect to find however, were two genuine news stories to land right at my feet as I train my student journalist eye.

The Minack Theatre, a picturesque acting environment if ever you see one. Situated, high above the small, elegant Porthcurno, the open air theatre sits mesmerically on the Cliffside overlooking the Atlantic Ocean giving the audience a wonderful spectacle in which to enjoy an infamous story tale from English literatures past.

Unbeknown to myself and my family, the classic ‘Romeo and Juliet’ performance we had come to see as we nestled into our seats (rockery covered with a shade of grass) among many hundreds of spectators, the evening was to be interrupted, in horrific circumstances.

The leading protagonists were conducting one of their first scenes together, when a bearded man, the theatre’s supervisor started to threat, running back and forth down the archaic granite steps to the side of the audience. Luckily, or not, our seats were close to the entire goings on. The supervisor grabbed his rather distorted microphone and said: “Sorry Romeo, we are going to have to stop it there, has anyone got an EpiPen?”.

Much to the shock of the viewing public, not to mention the actors as they ran off backstage, one or two members of the crowd answered his call, but everyone was unsure of exactly what was going on.

After, undertaking a spoonful of extra research an EpiPen is an emergency treatment for anaphylactic reactions. What is the latter, you may ask?

Well, ‘Anaphylaxis’ as it’s commonly known is a severe and potentially fatal allergic reaction. As murmurings around the theatre disrupted the return of the actors back to the stage, as curiosity caught the cold, everyone began to drift back into one of Shakespeare’s legacies.

Then, again suddenly, the grey haired master of ceremonies allowed for panic to set in at the theatre, asking: “I’m really sorry, but are there any doctors in the vicinity?”. By now, everyone knew that something was going on, detracting from the aura of watching a play at this special venue.

But health is health, and it always comes first as seven, yes right seven doctors jumped out of their seats, hustled through the crowds where they then went with members of staff to the person in need, at this point the audience were unaware about any of the logistics of the incident.

To proceed, I for one was as intrigued as anybody would be. After finding it a bit difficult to digest the art of Shakespeare, thinking with my journalistic hat on, I thought there well could be something big just around the corner. My immediate thoughts quickly rose to fruition, as again the play was stopped in mid flow as it was asked if anyone had a ‘glucose stick’ to hand. Somebody, a couple of rows in front answered the cry as they had to run out of the Minack and into the car park.

By this stage, it did seem quite worrying, even though nobody was exactly aware of what was going on. A diabetic attack was among the murmurings in the audience, but everybody was just genuinely in a state of shock. It’s never nice to have to use someone else’s misfortune of health in a positive light, but if I had a pen and paper handy that night, I could have handpicked a genuine, exciting story. Just moments later, however, things turned dramatically.

Another utterance from the theatre’s supervisor exclaimed that the plays interval would be taken early as there was an ambulance and an emergency rescue helicopter on its way. Signs of astonishment blemished on most withins faces as we all had to make our way to the back of the outdoor auditorium as the propellers of the helicopter would create a terrifically strong wind.

Still unaware of the seriousness of what had happened, the sight of a rescue helicopter storming through the night’s sky from the Cornish capital, Truro, certainly created an air of adrenaline. The ‘copter’, looked formidable in red as it hovered above the theatre to its left just above the dressing room areas for the actors.

As it went lower and higher to try and get into the correct position, the on looking crowd were taking photos and videos. Maybe, it could be seen as a dishonourable thing to do at the time of someone in need, but in journalistic terms and for example local televised news, footage in whatever format is crucial from witnesses at the scene.

Following more towing and throwing, the helicopter finally sent down a paramedic. The cliff edge was blocking our view of the unwell person and the paramedic in action but there was a sense that this was incredibly serious.

Indeed, after a stretcher carrying what looked like an unconscious man with breathing apparatus on into the small helicopter doorway, quickly it flew off into the night with a heartfelt round of applause following it from the crowd in appreciation of the medical teams efforts.

As the supervisor stood back on his plinth and barked out another utterance, this time he bought us all up to speed with events: “I’m really sorry for the delay, again, we will have an additional short interval before the actors resume, as they really want to finish their play for you. From now on, the Director will be playing the part of Montague, as he was airlifted to hospital”.

Some fast spread gossip around the crowd adhered everyone to the fact that the performer had a heart attack whilst back stage. ‘Romeo Montague’, Romeo’s father in the play was then astutely played by the theatre companies Director until the end of proceedings.

I’ve heard of the cliché a thousand times, but it really does ring true. In the acting world, the old adage: “the show must go on” could not be more true. I still find it incredibly remarkable how the acting team that night and for the rest of the week could keep a calm head knowing that a close colleague was in a distressing matter.

The show finished, shortly after midnight, an hour and a quarter later than normal. A couple of days after the show, I phoned the Minack Theatre to ask how the actor was. They could not give me any details over the phone. Furthermore, I looked in the local press in the days after the incident, but they hadn’t it seemed to of picked up on it.

I was disappointed, I didn’t have any quick and easy access to the internet whilst on holiday as I could have researched and contacted local Cornish media. Nonetheless, it was a strange night, and one I won’t forget in a hurry. And it got me thinking, throughout the whole spectrum of events I was thinking like a journalist, which was encouraging from my perspective.

To end the week as it begun, one more news item sprung to my attention. As my family and I, made our way home to the south coast, we were on the A30 just south of Devon, situated around the Exeter region where on the opposite carriageway a toppled over caravan laid across the three lane road.

As I looked, a car donning severe dents was positioned next to the caravan, with four or five people hugging with what seemed like a great deal of emotion, after what must have been a lucky escape. A bit further on from the crash, the traffic tailed back at a standstill as everyone was getting out of their vehicles to see what had happened.

I’m still not sure of the ins and outs of the incident, but whatever happened it goes to show that news can happen anywhere and everywhere. Overall, it was an eventful holiday, with more than a few twists and turns I expected before I set foot in quiet, little old Cornwall!