I thought it sounded a bit like a modern interpretation of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus – man having a pretty tough time of it has a chance encounter with the Devil – so far, so similar. It actually surprised me a lot more than Faustus. Mark Lockyer disarms the audience by greeting us individually in the foyer and directing us to the stage where we sit on assorted mismatched chairs in a semi-circle sipping tea and munching on Hobnobs

Happiness is … having overexcited people in the foyer before the performance starts, and not being sure if, in fact, the performance has already started. Happiness is having to do a collective breath and a bit of a knee bounce to loosen you up before even being allowed into the auditorium. Happiness is anticipation. Happiness is wondering what you’ve let yourself in for and being hugely relieved that you haven’t gone to this play . . .

Avast me hearties! Step aboard the good ship Creation, as she sails into Christmas and beyond with her new show at the North Wall, Treasure Island. Arrrrh . . . Hoist the mainsails, get your sea legs working, and then sit back as the Admiral Benbow Inn, the Hispaniola, and the terrifying Island itself come to life in front of your very eyes (or eye, if you’re wearing an eye patch). Arrrrh . . . Whether ye be a scurvy sprog, or a salty old sea dog, if you don’t enjoy yourself at Treasure Island then the only explanation is that you must be a landlubber, and there be no cure for that. Arrrrh.

The storytelling and music in the production are brilliant, but for me, the main strength lies in its rawness. In true storytelling tradition, the narrative doesn’t feel perfectly scripted – the words seem as though they might change to suit the audience or the storyteller’s mood. This feels very true to the spirit of passing on an oral tradition. I could imagine this performance would work equally well in front of a roaring fire in a pub, in a family living room over mugs of hot chocolate, or under the Northern Lights where Väinämöinen himself might stop to listen.