More stuff at the fringe

Enticed by the appearance of sun and my usual nosiness, we walked along Princes St Gardens to get to the Festival in the Sky at the far west end. I only had my iphone and the pics I took are not great, so to make the most of the view we sat in the enclosure beside the contraption. It went up and down a couple of times assisted by Sybil, Basil and Manuel who escorted the sky diners to their seats Fawlty-style.

This further encouraged us to stay a while and indulge in rather good Pimms Cups. I can highly recommend this form of entertainment for a Friday afternoon. However, I'm not on the whole tempted to eat at 100 feet dangling opposite the Castle Rock.

Much trotting about the city then ensued while we hopped on and off buses and forced our way up the High St through all the flyerers, acts, human statues and promenading visitors.  Then back down into the new town to get to the Assembly Rooms in time to join the restive queue of audience of a certain age wielding tickets for Fascinating Aida.

Joined by friends (Y and her queue-busting henchpersons I and J) we achieved good seats in the packed theatre and were entertained in splendid fashion.

These women should be on TV all the time, or at least as much as they want to be. Of course, some of their material would have to be way beyond the 9pm watershed and carry a health warning about the danger of laughing fit to burst. Some of the terms (not repeated here in case of attracting the wrong type of reader) needed to be made clear to older or less worldly members of the audience. Indeed the posse of archetypal primary teachers in the row behind were gratifyingly scandalised by one song. They thankfully resisted more than a token effort of pretence that they didn't understand the terminology describing intimate activities in small vehicles leading to steamed up windows.

It all set us up nicely to eat copious amounts of Mexican food. Y and I ordered more Sangria than sensible but otherwise we all behaved.

Y, I and J went to whatever late night show they had planned and Sig Other and I went to Paul Sinha.

I'd seen him last Fringe and the most I could say was that I wasn't offended. Actually, that is high praise for a Fringe show. He was much more assured and quite staggeringly right on in this year's act. Not all comic representatives of minorities/diversity strands/former doctors and so forth manage to demonstrate a competent understanding of intersectionality, but he did. And it was funny.