Fringe Benefits part 2

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The Edinburgh Festival – millions of people and thousands of shows. The streets are crowded with buskers, acrobats, fire-eaters and thousands of people like us – trying to find their way around. Everywhere are posters for shows – all very enticing and all involving much mathematical and geographical calculation to ensure we can skip from one event to the other.

Day 3

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The sun is shining and we wander down to the Scottish parliament. We are whisked through security (C Swiss Army knife will be returned when we leave) and we step inside. It is a modern building – the first debate between members took place in 2004 – and there are many pleasing curves in pale wood. Downstairs in the lobby there is a World Press Photo exhibition – photographs taken in 2018.

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For lunch we have a rather awful sandwich at Patisserie Valerie (I thought they’d closed) and then move down North Bridge to the Hilton Hotel, where, surprisingly, we shall spend the afternoon. We have tickets for three shows.

We walk upstairs and wait in the light comfortable bar and then we’re called in to see Walls and Bridges

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It is a play about students in 1953 East Berlin, performed, I think, by students. The poster is great, Two or three of the actors are excellent, but the play lacks any real political insight above the usual stereotypes of life in East Germany – the ardent communist who speaks rather woodenly and the young free thinkers anxious to break out of their narrow lives. It is a bit depressing.

We therefore decide to give the next play a miss. We had booked it not knowing it was the same group. Then we read some of the reviews and see it may have more to it than we realised, but it is too late, which is a shame. However, the Hilton Hotel is a very comfortable place to wait for our next show, so we find an empty sofa and have a whisky – Jura.

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A woman advertising another show – In Pursuet – wanders through the bar with a life size cardboard cut-out of Sue Perkins. The woman herself looks a little like Sue Perkins, but it is not her. In a corner someone is doing face painting. Is it for a show? Or is it just Art?

IMG_5879 (2)Our next show is Sherlock Holmes and the conundrum of Arthur Conan Doyle.

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We are at the funeral of Conan Doyle, his second wife is here and who should turn up but Sherlock Holmes. There is community singing. This is difficult at a real funeral, let alone in a small dark room with 20 strangers. It is a confusing 40 minutes. I am not even sure what the conundrum is. I am pleased that I have actually heard the Radio 4 programme Great Lives talking about Conan Doyle – Gyles Brandreth was very knowledgeable and funny.

It is bucketing down! The new fab walking shoes are not wet-weather proof.

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We make our way to the Surgeon’s Hall to see Dr Phil Hammond talking about the NHS and health generally. He is very good, charming, amusing, with thoughtful easy politics, which is very welcome. There hasn’t been much political content in the shows we’ve seen.

Day 4

Today we are wearing the plastic macs we bought specially for the Fringe and brought to Edinburgh so carefully and neatly and which we left in the room yesterday when we went out in the pouring rain. It is still pouring. We sit damply in a cafe and have a Scottish breakfast.

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Friend Gill is heading down from Dundee to have lunch with us at David Bann, a very nice vegetarian restaurant.

We meet Gill at Waverley Station and walk to St Mary’s Street. They don’t take bookings during the Festival, but we are very early and there is space. The restaurant meets with Gill’s approval. There is tofu, cooked in a way that even I like it. All is beautifully presented, the staff are friendly and the coffee is good.

Then we dash to the National Museum of Scotland, where there are many obscure and interesting things to see.

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At 3 o’clock those toes are feeling very tired – but happy – and we board our train back to London. And then begins another adventure, as the great power cut hits. Our night in Retford.

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Sunset over Retford

 

Fringe Benefits part 1

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We are going to Edinburgh, to the Festival Fringe, on the train. The weather is quite chilly and the sky is grey. From starting the journey in a t-shirt I put on a (cotton) scarf and my denim jacket.

At York a group of middle-aged women get on the train, and tell the train manager that they are performing at the Fringe. Although I really want to, I don’t ask them what they’re doing in case it’s something like ‘Songs from the Shows’ and we have to go, because we have struck up a rapport.

The closer we get to Scotland, the lovelier the countryside becomes. We pass the Angel of the North

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Lindisfarne, Berwick-on-Tweed (which just sounds Scottish). We see the sea and then dark satanic hills, covered in pines, looking like the back of an All Year Round Christmas shop, waiting for a delivery of lights.

And suddenly we are in Scotland. In order to fit in I adopt my best Janet-from-Dr-Finlay accent.  ‘Will ye no have a wee cup of tea before you’re away, Dr Finlay?’ I will of course never use this question or attempt the accent.

The streets are full of posters advertising all manner of shows.

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We check in to our apart’hotel which is wonderfully central, on the Royal Mile, but unaccountably has a picture of Sean Connery on the wall, as well as a modern monarch of the glen.

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There is also a dishwasher.

We have already booked tickets for some shows and tonight we are going to see Pizza Shop Heroes,

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a play about and acted by four young men who came to the UK as unaccompanied asylum-seeking minors. They became part of a theatre group, Phosphorus Theatre. In the play, they are now adults, all working in a pizza joint, they tell their stories, their different experiences – long dangerous journeys being ripped off and beaten up at every turn – which are extraordinary and awful and powerful.

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Day 2

Cherie – My Struggle is on at 10.30am, at the George Hotel – a one-woman show, a woman in a red dress and dark hair and a wide mouth, whose name I cannot discover. It is a very accomplished show – the life and times of Cherie Booth.

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I don’t know what to expect, but I realise now I want more politics – why was she Labour? What was the difference between her and Tony in their attitude to Labour politics (apart from the fact she was born to it and he decided on it after a posh upbringing)? Did she feel betrayed by his career in politics – other than by the fact she got Thanet North when she stood as a Labour Candidate – and therefore never had a chance of winning and he got Sedgefield and won?

Having said that – it is accomplished, it lasts 50 minutes, it reminds you of bits of political history you’ve forgotten – the tragedy of the death of John Smith, Gordon Brown’s strange agreement with Tony, and  the terrible shock of discovering in the newspaper that your beloved dad’s got a new wife and child.

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Afterwards we go to Frederick’s Coffee House. There are many steps to climb to get here. Edinburgh is so full of highs and lows. I am wearing my new M&S (black but sparkly) (unwontedly sparkly) trainers which I bought to enable the trekking around Edinburgh. They’re comfortable but my feet are very hot.

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We have a flat white and a slice of (very sweet) blueberry sponge cake.

After lunch we go to see Syd, Arthur Smith’s show, an hour of memories of his father. It includes singing (he has a young woman accompanying him on the piano) – which is unexpected.

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Arthur Smith has a tuneless gravelly voice. He sings Leonard Cohen and Kinks songs which I quite like but C thinks is sentimental. But Arthur Smith is about the same age as me, so many of his references reverberate with me, talk of the war, music, adverts. But his father was a policeman, which was not something that would have happened in our house.

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Next we wait in the rain, under a tarpaulin, to see Sarah Keyworth, nominated for Best Newcomer in 2018. She is a young lesbian and very funny. It is extraordinary how a single person on a stage can keep you amused for an hour, how she can remember all her lines, how she keeps it fresh after doing the same set night after night.

We give the last item on today’s agenda a miss as my legs are aching. It’s an interesting looking play about a murder – but quite a long walk away. Is it wrong to determine your cultural intake by geography? I answer this question by saying we need time between events to savour the content of what we have just seen.

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