In her 2008 memoir Home, Academy Award winner Julie Andrews wrote about her early years—growing up in a blitz-ravaged London, winning over audiences and critics in My Fair Lady and Camelot on Broadway, and preparing to head West for her first film role. In her second memoir, Home Work—out October 15—Andrews, writing with her daughter Emma Walton Hamilton, picks up where Home left off, taking readers through her storied movie career. In these excerpts from the memoir’s first chapter, Andrews describes in exquisite detail her experiences making Mary Poppins: the learning curve she faced moving from the stage to the Disney lot; meeting her costar Dick Van Dyke; and the challenges of filming the practically perfect nanny’s flying scenes.

It had been eight years since I first made the leap across the Atlantic from England to Broadway. At that time, I was 19, totally on my own, and desperately worried about leaving my dysfunctional family behind and the huge unknown that awaited me. I didn’t know where I would be living or how to balance a checkbook, let alone function in an overwhelming metropolis like New York City.

Now, here I was, with three shows—The Boy Friend, My Fair Lady, and Camelot—and several thousand performances on Broadway and in London behind me, beginning yet another journey into a new unknown: Hollywood.

This time, thankfully, I was not alone. My husband, Tony, was with me. We were embarking on this new adventure together, along with our baby daughter, Emma. We were green as grass, had no knowledge of the film industry, and could not possibly envision what lay ahead—but we were industrious, open-minded, and we had each other. We were also blessed to have the great Walt Disney to guide us.

Tony and I spent a few days getting over jet lag and settling in. Emma was only three months old, and we had brought her nanny, Wendy, with us to help care for her during the five days a week that we would be working. On weekends, she could take time off and we would have Emma to ourselves. I was still breastfeeding my baby, and I hoped to do so for as long as possible. I had a fair way to go to get myself back into pre-pregnancy shape, so I was grateful that there would be a period of dance rehearsals before filming began.

A few days after our arrival, I went with Tony to the Walt Disney Studios, located in Burbank. Tony and I had visited there once before, and we were again struck by the sunny ease of the place; the shady trees and beautifully manicured lawns upon which people relaxed or played table tennis during their lunch hour. Neatly arranged bungalow offices, several large soundstages, construction sheds, and a main theater were dominated by a much larger three-story structure known as the Animation Building. Walt’s suite of offices was on the top floor, and below were airy workspaces where the artists and animators created their magic.

We had lunch with Walt and his coproducer/screenwriter Bill Walsh in the commissary, long recognized as the best in Hollywood for its great food and friendly atmosphere. Walt’s persona was that of a kindly uncle—twinkly-eyed, chivalrous, and genuinely proud of all he had created. His international empire encompassed film, television, and even a theme park, yet he was modest and gracious. Our new friend Tom Jones once said to me that you didn’t last very long at the company if you were mean-spirited or bad-tempered.

I was provided with a car and driver for the first two or three weeks, but eventually, the Studios loaned me a vehicle of my own when it was assumed that I knew my way around. I was nervous about driving on the freeways and received guidelines: “Stick to the right lane, and get off at Buena Vista.” “Stay in the slowest lane; you don’t need to cross lanes at all.” “Go dead straight until you come to your exit,” etc. Being English, I’d never driven on a freeway, or on the right-hand side of the road, and it definitely took some getting used to.

My first weeks at the Walt Disney Studios were consumed with meetings, and wardrobe and wig fittings. I was struck by the differences between preparing for a film role and preparing for a stage performance. For a play or musical, the first few days are spent in script readings and laying out the staging of the scenes. Measurements are taken and you see costume sketches, but fittings generally don’t happen until well into the rehearsal process. A film, however, is usually shot out of sequence, and in very small increments. Blocking for any scene isn’t addressed until the day of the shoot. It felt odd to be fitting costume elements and wigs for a role I had yet to portray, but to some degree, seeing those costumes helped me begin to formulate Mary’s character.

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