We woke up this morning with very fuzzy heads after dancing until the early hours at the Gilded Balloon. We actually managed to whirm our way into the V.I.P bar after meeting a famous comedian during an impromptu acoustic gig at Forest (only at the Fringe) and spent most of the time trying not to look too much like rabbits in headlights though it didn’t take long for us to get a bit of a taste for it. It was a chance to see a side of the Fringe we had never seen before and it was characterised by a lot of red wine and schmoozing. The whole experience was short lived however, when we tried to get back in later on we were turned away despite our assurances that “We know Phil…?” Put back in our place. Standard.
So we spent the whole day seeing theatre that we cannot usually see due to unavoidable flyering commitments including the brilliant Shutterland by Rhum and Clay theatre company. Amazing. During the months between the Fringe I always feel a bit bereft of theatre – and that’s mainly due to my own laziness. But this theatre void only helps me appreciate Edinburgh in August even more. One of the best things about the Fringe? The enormous theatre binge.
It’s all very quiet in the flat this evening as people drift in and out of sleep. Duvets are out on sofas, the kettle is never off the boil and Harry Potty is on. Plus there’s cake. Perfect. Just the tonic after last night’s antics and exactly the right way to spend the night before we get back on the stage and back to the rhythm we found (fingers crossed). We’ve reached the half way point. Keep going everyone. It’s all happening in a bit of a blur and fast, too fast. We’re counting down the number of shows left now and there’s something a little bit sad about that.
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