Obviously, I'd rather have made my final Edinburgh post about a week ago but the past few days have been kind of mental (This will probably become clear later.) In some ways, it's probably a good thing to have put some distance between getting home and making this post because I've had a chance to reflect on my stint at the Fringe and last week I'd probably just have gushed mawkishly and incoherently about the whole experience.
My last two days in Edinburgh were pretty damn close to perfect although it really felt as though the whole experience came to an end far too abruptly. After a very drawn out process, I managed to get a ticket on Sunday afternoon for
Enda Walsh's 'The New Electric Ballroom', which had drawn rave reviews from critics throughout the festival. It was easily the most professional theatrical production I'd seen throughout the Fringe, with an elaborate set, stylised costumes and actors that I can only guess are paid professionals.
The play focuses around two elderly sisters who both had their hearts broken by a big band singer in the sixties and the impact their subsequently
hermitic existences have on their younger sister. The script featured repeated dialogue that wouldn't sound out of place in a Beckett play but was also imbued with Walsh's trademark verve. Although perhaps not as strikingly original as something like Disco Pigs, this play packs an equally powerful punch in its dramatic climax and certainly lived up to the hype. Try to catch this when it
inevitably comes to The Abbey or The Gate.
Later on Sunday, I got to go to a special show at the Assembly Rooms performed by the newly crowned If.comedy Award winner David O'
Doherty. O'
Doherty was clearly still reeling from his win and really seemed to enjoy the set, eventually being goaded into giving a second encore. Later in the evening, we got to meet him and congratulate him on his well deserved success. It was so endearing to see how humble he was about the whole thing, claiming the £8000 will go some way towards paying back all the money he owes to his dad for financing his comedy career. International success generally greets winners of this prestigious prize so let's hope he manages to stay grounded.
The majority of my last day in Edinburgh was spent packing and then working. I foolishly booked my flight for 8am the next morning, which meant that I had to try and moderate my alcohol intake. Kind of challenging when it's me that we're dealing with and the lovely Ed
Byrne puts £200 behind the bar for the front of house staff.
Obviously, I failed miserably and wound up fairly hammered midway through the night. I never made it to the third leg of our celebrations in
Garribaldi's because I decided that four hours before I was due to leave Scotland was the opportune moment to make an advance on the colleague that I'd gradually become more and more enamoured with throughout the festival.
The way it played out probably would have been very romantic if I hadn't been so bloody drunk. We walked around the same block of buildings in Edinburgh city centre about four times before I finally got the courage to kiss him. In some ways, it might have been cool if we'd hooked up earlier on because it's been a long time since I fancied somebody as much as I liked this guy but in other ways, I'm kind of glad it happened the way it did.
Because of the fact that I was going home, our tryst could mean anything or nothing and it was a ittingly amazing end to an
unbelievably awesome few weeks. After extensive lip-locking under archways, it was time for me to leave and he bundled me into a taxi so I could go pick up my stuff and head to the airport. As a result of these shenanigans, I deprived myself of the opportunity to say most of my drunken farewells. I got the boy but never got to say goodbye.
At the airport,
Ryanair brought be back to reality with a bump my imposing another 'excess baggage' of £48 on me. I had checked in a second bag online but apparently this doesn't entitle you to any more weight. Oh well, you live and learn. Right?
So, that was my time at the Edinburgh Fringe. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say it was the best four weeks of my life so far. I certainly hope to be back for many more fringe festivals in the future.
As I've said before, there's a lot to be said for travelling on your own, under the right circumstances. The front of house job enabled me to meet so many fantastic people to socialise and see shows with whereas the Fringe environment was such that it was impossible to feel lonely, bored or homesick.
It's reassuring to know that I can survive in situations like this and, unlike on my work placement last year in Eagle Star where I was also starting off knowing nobody, I didn't feel a need to adjust my behaviour or play down aspects of my personality in order to fit in. I was just myself and people accepted that.
My decision to come to Edinburgh for the
festival was made hastily in March at a time when my world seemed to be crumbling around me and I needed something to cling to. It's comforting to think that this incredible experience was borne out of a difficult time and that in the future I may be able to turn similarly frustrating situations into amazing adventures.
Until next year, Edinburgh.
Anyone who's come within a ten-metre radius of me during the past couple of weeks has probably had the music of Ladyhawke forced upon them. I do apologise for my excessive zeal but I genuinely believe that people's lives stand to be enhanced by the inclusion of this Antipodean beauty's eponymous début album in their CD collection (or Itunes library, if you must.)
