Postcard from Edinburgh - Haggis and baggage

There's something about the last day of a holiday that makes one want to cram in the maximum level of enjoyment, especially if it relates to things that you can't get at home. That's why I fought and only narrowly won my battle with common decency at breakfast and did not return from the buffet with a plate simply piled high only with haggis.


And again, with the weight limit in mind, I didn't panic buy several tins of the stuff from the shop on the royal mile. I imagine that tourists from all over the world do and can just imagine what it must be like when some bloke from Tokyo serves that up as a treat for some honoured guests.

Back to the Pleasance, to see Sandi Toksvig. Ironically, we see the large Tim Vine in a tiny venue and the diminutive Sandi in a large venue. Sandi is, I think, on her way to becoming something of a Peter Ustanov, in that she has an admirable style as a raconteur, a dry wit, a surname that scores highly in Scrabble and judging by her waistline a fondness for biscuits. Dipped in lard.

Edinburgh fashion tip - ladies, if you are old enough to remember 'The Dukes of Hazzard' tee vee series, you are too old to wear Daisy Dukes.

Whatever the shortcomings of its venues, the Plesance Courtyard is an excellent place to spend some time. My advice would be to go to the courtyard but avoid the venues. The courtyard is the place to go to meet with friends, grab a drink, have a seat and become the proud owner of around 12,000 flyers. You are handed a flyer every 30 seconds. Like animal training, you must employ a firm 'no' and harden yourself to seeing hope die in the eyes of a young performer.

Next year am going to have my own flyers printed up and only take one of theirs if they take one of mine. Mine will be for a theatre piece where a psychotic nutter is driven insane by the constant badgering of those wishing to give him flyers and so goes to their shows, then tracks them down hand beats them to death with a bag heavy with accumulated flyers, or squeak toys, I haven't quite worked that out yet.

Alternatively, fuck it, one year I am going to allow myself enough time to engage in conversation and go to one show every day after auditioning the various flyerers and picking what looks like the best show, or the most attractive cast.

Of course the luxury project would be to only attend shows discovered by way of flyer, and the project to turn into a blog, to turn into a book, to turn into a show next year would be the flyer chain, where you go to a show via a flyer on the Royal Mile and every show you go to thereafter has to be as a result of a flyer you get at the venue of the previous show.


Given the sheer number of shows, they can't all be great, no matter how many stars the artist biros onto their poster, so 'Flying Fuck-that-was-bad' is the working title.