Israel photos

I took 471 photos, but you'll be happy to know I only posted 80.  Sadly, what I wanted the most--a meteor--I didn't get. You'll be forgiven if you think I've recycled my Grand Canyon photos, but that really is Makhtesh Ramon (and a few of Makhtesth HaGadol). I then drove past the Dead Sea and the Sea of Galilee to Tzfat, Hula Valley, the Banias nature preserve (check out the Syrian Rock Hyrax!) and Nazareth.  (I arrived at the airport early, so made an unscheduled stop at Jaffa to dip my toes into the Mediterranean.)

Overall, it was an amazing trip, but I would expect nothing less from Israel.  I've already thought about going back in Spring 2015 to see the desert wildflowers and migrating birds.

Lost in Transliteration

I spent four days in the Upper Galilee/Golan Heights area. It was boiling hot, it was mostly barren, it was right on the border of both Lebanon and Syria, not exactly the friendliest (or most stable) neighbors, and it was lovely.

Tzfat--or Tsfat, or Zafet, or Safed, or about six other ways to spell it--was interesting, built on a hilltop, with a long history of Jewish spiritualism (or 'kabbalah'). I'd talked to several people who all really loved Tzfat, and so I used it as my base, but somehow it didn't do it for me. I don't understand why; certainly the narrow cobblestone alleys were attractive, the people were friendly enough, I loved the B&B I stayed at, and there's nothing I can fault, but I just didn't love it.

The next day I headed north to the Hula valley, where half a billion (with a 'b') birds pass through twice a year whilst migrating between Europe, Asia and Africa. Unfortunately, in summer, birds aren't migrating anywhere, and all I saw were some pigeons. (And monster catfish that could have eaten the pigeons!)  It was hot and humid and a long walk to see nothing.

But after that I went to Banias falls, which was lovely and cool. They had even built a "suspended trail" over the river, along a basalt canyon, which was nothing short of spectacular. A short drive away was an archaeological site from 300 BCE and the remains of a Crusader-era fort, both very cool but blisteringly hot, so I didn't stay long.

 

I have to give kudos to the Israel national parks service which manages a wide variety of resources and seems to have gotten the balance of public access, preservation, and interpretation spot on.

I should also note that when I went to the first park, the nice person told me it was 29 shekels or I could go to 6 parks for 99 shekels. Well, six was ridiculous--I wasn't even sure I'd go to three--so I paid each one separately.  In the end, I went to six...

The next day I was thinking of going to the Sea of Galilee (possibly doing some preaching) but when I'd passed through a few days prior, I was not terribly impressed, and this was seconded by a friend who'd lived in Israel. Instead I had a nice easy day, made even easier because Tzfat shut down at 2:30pm!

I should note, because the Jewish sabbath is Saturday, the weekend in Israel is Friday and Saturday, and Sunday is a normal working day. Of course, in a tourist area you'd hardly notice the difference, but in a conservative town like Tzfat, everything stopped, including the buses! (There are some parts of Israel where they will throw stones at your car if they see you driving on Saturday!)  Since there was nothing to be done, I went back to the hotel where I'd spied a hammock earlier, and I took a nap in the sunshine. A light breeze had mercifully started to blow, and it was heavenly.

I also realised it had been seven years--since I'd moved to Pennsylvania--that I'd been in a hammock! As this had been a weekend ritual for over a decade in LA, it was hard to believe. I also used to get in the hot tub two or three times a week in LA.  Since moving, I think I've been in a hot tub once. No wonder I'm so stressed. :-(

In the evening I drove to Mount Meron, not far away, to take photos of the sunset. On the way I saw a wild pig crossing the road, so I jumped out of the car to take a photo! This startled three little piglets that had been hiding, and they ran across the road to join their mom.  I was happily following them and snapping pictures, oblivious to how far I'd moved from the car, when the mom turned and snorted at me.

You've never seen me move so fast in my life. 

Saturday I left Tzfat at 11am, I had to be at the airport at 6pm, and it was a two hour drive. With 5 hours to kill, my first stop was Nazareth, which was perfect because it was an Arab city, and so wouldn't be closed for Shabbat. Unfortunately, Nazareth kind of sucked. 

Of course this is where Jesus grew up, so various Christian denominations had plonked churches down on every site associated with his life, all of which have been destroyed and rebuilt many times as the city changed hands (and had occasional earthquakes) over the past two millenia. The biggest, the church of the Annunciation, was finished in 1969 out of bare concrete and it is...interesting. It did have mosaics of Mary and Jesus from around the world, which was actually quite interesting, especially the one from Japan showing a very Oriental-looking Jesus.

 

Hilariously, while everyone else believes Mary was visited by an angel to announce that she was bearing the son of God while she was at home, the Greek Orthodox believe it happened while she was fetching water at the well, and so they built a separate Church of the Annunciation a few blocks away! I did nor go into that one. 

I did wander through the alleyways of the Old City, browse at a souq, and ate at a falafel stand, but that only took two hours and I was bored, so I left.

The road to the airport took me past Mount Maggido, which in Hebrew is "Har Maggido" which has been corrupted into "Armageddon." It is a stronghold on the trade route from Egypt to Syria, and so has been fought over for 6000 years! No wonder John predicted it would be the site of the final battle on Earth.

Having been continuously occupied, and having changed hands so many times, they say it's one of the most important archaeological sites in Israel, and there I was at the entrance, with a couple of hours to kill...and I just couldn't do it. I'd been culturally saturated, and the the thought of walking around in the 40C (104F) heat was too much. I got back in my car, tail tucked firmly between my legs, and drove off (with the air conditioning on full).

So I arrived at the airport at 3pm, 3 hours before I planned, and 5 hours before my flight!! On a whim, I continued on Route 1 to Jaffa (next to Tel Aviv) where I sat on the beach and dipped my toes in the Mediterranean Sea. That was the perfect end to a lovely holiday. 

The plane was an hour and a half late and I didn't get home until 3am, but I didn't care.  I had a great time, saw some amazing things, found some of the answers I was looking for, and have new directions in my life. Isn't that what travel is supposed to be about?

Crisis of faith

Who knew coming to Israel would result in a crisis of faith?

I guess they call it a "journey into Judaism" for a reason.  There's no "a-ha" moment, no accepting a saviour, no submitting to God.  It is all about learning and growing; the conversion process is only intended to give you a foundation to build upon.  It is like leaving college thinking you know everything, and quickly realizing you don't know anything.

Of course, if you're a born Jew, you know that no one can challenge you, but I lack that confidence.  Worse, as I converted Reform, about half the Jews in the world would not even consider me Jewish!  In the UK, I've associated with secular and progressive Jews, where I am often the most observant Jew!  However, in Tzfat there are many Hasidic and ultra-orthodox Jews who put me to shame.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to join them--far from it!--but their mere presence makes me feel like less of a Jew.  I can't read Hebrew, I don't understand a lot of their rituals, I don't feel comfortable in their synagogues, and I've heard at least six versions of "L'cha dodi"* that I've never heard before!  Rather than making me feel connected, it makes me feel alienated, and makes me question if I'm actually Jewish at all.

Hopefully this gives me the incentive to start learning Hebrew--not just being able to read it, but understand it--and perhaps it's just a reminder that there is still a lot to learn and experience.  I keep thinking that if I had a Jewish partner, this would be easier, but this is my journey, and no one can take it for me.


* Video from the Tzfat klezmer festival 2010

Dark Skies

The International Dark-Sky Association is not some evil organisation bent on the destruction of society (although that would be cool).  Instead, it's a group of professional and amateur astronomers who sensibly point out that "light pollution" destroys our view of the cosmos (not to mentions messes with sea turtles) and suggests common-sense ways to minimize it, which also reduces energy and saves money.  What could be easier?

Except I think they have a real fight on their hands.

I was in Mitzpe Ramon for the meteor shower, and I was there specifically because the local council shuts off all of the town's lights for the event.  This has proved very popular, and I read that last year they attracted 9,000 people, although I find that a little hard to believe considering the town only has 5,000 residents!  There were certainly a lot of people there, but I wouldn't estimate it at more than 500-1,000, at least at the soccer field they had designated for the event.

Of course, I didn't go into the soccer field, partly because of my enduring disdain for fellow humans, but mostly because I didn't have a bright pink wristband like everyone else (and no idea how to get one).  Instead, I went to a "rock sculpture garden" nearby, staked out a broad flat rock that didn't look like it might be harboring any venomous snakes, and laid down.  The sun was just setting, the moon was going to follow shortly, I could already see hundreds of stars, and I realised it had been five years since I last went stargazing.  Five years!  I used to go once or twice a year, to the top of Mount Pina in Frasier Park, 2000 feet up and it was always cold, but I was prepared with blankets, gloves, hats, scarves, and six layers of clothes.  Tonight I was just wearing jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and I had a thin jumper in the car.

Then the sun went down and the wind picked up and the temperature dropped 20 degrees and I was absolutely freezing and miserable.  After about 20 minutes of shivering, I went back to the car to collect my jumper, and then decided to take a short nap while waiting for the moon to set.  I woke up at 1am.

Which is fine, because meteor showers are always best right before dawn (when the earth is colliding with them head-on) and besides all of the day trippers had taken their kids home, leaving only the avid stargazers.  I grabbed my jumper and got out of my car and there were...campfires!

I can't begin to express my shock and horror.  The whole point of being in Mitzpeh Ramon was to have dark skies, and these people were ruining it for everyone!  Elsewhere people had their car lights on and music playing, and people were walking around with bright flashlights and shining them on everyone.  It was a freak show, not a star party.  I honestly have no idea why anyone of them had bothered to come out into the middle of Negev desert, since they obviously had no actual interest in the meteor shower.

So now I had to get away from all the people, in a town I knew nothing about.  I thought about driving out of town, but that would just mean I was sitting on Highway 40 with constant traffic going by.  I thought about going to a campsite that I knew had a star party the night before, but then I realised you needed a 4x4 to reach it.  I thought about going to the cemetery, but then I asked myself what I was thinking.  For someone who purports not to believe in anything supernatural, I am still scared by them.

So I ended up driving around town, at 2am, with the street lights off.  Even though it is a tiny little town, it was still terrifying!  I did not appreciate how accustomed I am to having city streets lit up like daytime. I literally could not see 20 feet ahead of me. When you're barreling down the motorway that's one thing, but in a built-up environment with parked cars, occasional pedestrians, turns and dead-end streets, it was incredibly difficult. 

Even worse, when I finally found a spot that was away from all the people, I didn't want to stay there because it was away from all the people!  To be fair, I really can't imagine a safer little town than Mitzpe Ramon, but the big city paranoia runs deep, and I was not comfortable being in the middle of nowhere.

Finally I found a spot, which I later realised was the entrance to Mahktesh Ramon, the crater I had gone down the day before.  There were some people on the hill above me, there were some rocks for setting up my camera (although I don't think I caught a single meteor), and more importantly the gale force wind was being blocked by the hill, so it was cool but tolerable.  My only complaint was that there was no place to sit or lie down.  I stood out there for nearly two hours, mindlessly operating my camera, and saw some good meteors but no fireballs, nothing really that great.  I did get excited at one point until I realised what I was seeing were Chinese lanterns that someone had released over the canyon.  Unbelievable.

One humorous moment came when I saw one of the people on the hill was standing near the cliff edge, and I thought his silhouette against the backdrop of stars would make a nice photo. I'd just set up the camera and released the shutter when I heard the unmistakable sound of water splashing below the ledge.  Fortunately I was far enough away, but the camera was on a 30-second shutter and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  It will be interesting to see how that photo comes out.

Speaking of which, I managed to drain the camera battery that night, and did not bring the charger with me.  As of Wednesday it is still working, but I have 3 more days in Israel.  Fingers crossed.

* Of course, you don't want a meteor to be too great, as that could mean the end to life on this planet.  I should also note that photo isn't mine, wasn't taken in Mitzpe Ramon, isn't of the Perseid meteor shower, and wasn't taken this year.  But it's still pretty.

Greetings from Israel

I'm sitting in my hotel room, drinking a cup of Tetley's tea, typing on my laptop, and thinking I could be doing this at home.  Why did I need to come here to do this?
The answer, of course, is complicated.  The immediate driver is watching the Perseid meteor shower from the Negev desert, something Jess had suggested years ago. So it definitely feels a little bittersweet to be here on my own.  But the bigger question I'm trying to understand is my relationship to Israel, and why I came away from my last visit with such an affinity for it.

After all, I hadn't converted to Judaism at the time--hadn't even considered it.  I loved Amsterdam and Prague, but they didn't move me like Israel.  And more than that, I had a really hard time the last time I was in Israel, so by all accounts I should really dislike it.

It was March 2009, nine months after I'd moved to London, and eight months after I'd met Jess. I'd been struggling to find a job, struggling to pay my bills, and struggling to integrate into British life.  I had just moved out of my flat and was staying with Jess, but it was clear she wasn't comfortable with that. And I was fast approaching the deadline that if I didn't find a job soon, I would not be able to renew my work permit, and would have to leave the UK.

I had no idea that just one month later, I would have a flat and a job, and finally start to feel at home.  But at the time I was depressed, full of self-doubt, and this was not the right time to spend £1,000 to go on holiday with Jess' entire family for a wedding in Israel.

So of course I said yes. But I did tell Jess before I left that I was at a very low point, and was going to have had a hard time coping with so many new people, and that I really needed her support while we were there.  Instead, she ignored me during the entire trip.

Of course it's not fair to put it all on her, but having reached out and got nothing back, even I realised that was a red flag in a relationship, and so I broke up with her.  In the middle of the trip.  I recognise that wasn't the best time, especially surrounded by her entire family, but I've never been one to hide my emotions.

So against that backdrop of emotional turmoil, I visited Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, Masada and the Dead Sea, Caeserea and Eilat, Petra and Wadi Rum, each more spectacular than the last, each steeped in history, each a thriving, living place.  In ten days I was completely overwhelmed by the beauty and the spectacle.  The people I met were open and accommodating.  It was such an incredible feeling, even as my own inner resources were crumbling within.

That is my personal history with Israel.  I know its political history, and I certainly don't agree with everything they've done, but I will say it's a miracle they even exist.  In 1948 Jerusalem was a forgotten backwater of the Ottoman empire; Tel Aviv was nothing but sand dunes; it was literally a worthless part of the middle-east -- they only country not to have oil! -- and the transformation over the past 75 years is nothing short of miraculous.  Of course they still have a ways to go, and a lot of internal politics to sort out, but I'm very optimistic about its future.

And in part that's why I'm here, to see if I want to be part of its future. Ever since I converted--and migrating became an option--it's been in the back of my mind.  Yes, it would be an incredibly difficult transition, much harder than moving to England, but Israel is one of the few countries that actively helps immigrants integrate with society, from language classes to job assistance. (You are even assigned a "mentor family!")  So while it would be an incredible challenge, it would also be an incredible opportunity.

So stepping out of Ben Gurion airport this evening, into the darkening twilight and the warm, humid air, brought back a lot of memories, some harder than others. But it's time I faced this stalking horse that has been chasing me for four years, try to better understand this country, and hopefully understand a bit more of myself in the process.


My itinerary (you may have to zoom out)

Walking

I did the maths (or maps, as the case may be) and realised that in less than 3 days, I'd walked over 20 miles in Edinburgh!  You might have thought I would have lost weight as a result, but unfortunately I found a lovely little pie shop in the middle of town..

(Sadly, I didn't make it to the Engine Shed this year, which is a fantastic vegetarian cafe that provides employment for people with learning disabilities.)

Edinburgh roundup

[I should warn you, this message is rather long.  If you aren't interested in the minutae of my life, you should stop reading here and write me a 2,500 word essay on how your life is better.  Include as many examples as possible.]

Friday

I arrived Edinburgh on Friday afternoon about half an hour later than scheduled because--as the conductor announced at least 8 times in the 3 hour ride--there was a fatality on the tracks about 200 miles away, which honestly couldn't have affected our journey unless they stopped the train to observe 20 minutes of silence.  I don't mean to make light of a fatality--and I don't have any more details than that--just at the zealousness with which Virgin was willing to blame their tardiness on a fatality that clearly had nothing to do with it.  Had the cafe run out of tea, I'm sure they would have blamed it on the fatality, as well.

No worries, it was now 4:53pm and I had an hour and fifteen minutes to buy some underwear, check into my hotel, and get to the church* for Friday night service. Not a problem, except it turns out nobody in Edinburgh sells underwear.  (It must be all those kilts!)  I went into a mall and two clothing stores; no underwear! I finally found a Marks & Spencer but by now it was almost 5:30, and there was no way I could walk to the hotel, so I decided to hail a cab.

Except it was the Edinburgh fringe, and every cab was taken.  I had walked halfway to the hotel** before I finally found one available.  I checked in, threw my suitcase in the room, and literally ran across town, arriving in a complete sweat just at 6:15pm!  I was the first one there.

I should note that I had emailed both the liberal and orthodox communities to let them know I'd be in town and I'd like to attend services.  The liberal community sent me a nice response giving me all the details and letting me know they met in the rec center of a local church.  I never heard back from the Orthodox community.  Always nice to feel welcome.

Anyway, before long there were 14 of us, although only 3 were locals--the rest were, like me, in town just for the festival.  I thought that was very sweet for so many people to take time out to do that. We also took the chairs outside and held the service in a circle in the garden, which was so lovely.  It was a really beautiful start to the weekend.

I left there on a high and walked into town where I saw the Pajama Men.  They were as brilliant as ever, and they will be in New York City in September/October -- I suggest you book your plane tickets now.  Afterwards I saw Ivy Paige just because--honestly--I liked her photo in the catalogue.  (And she is gorgeous.)  I arrived a few minutes late and can't tell you how lucky I was, because she really picks on latecomers, and thankfully a group came in just after me!  Whew!

So I got back to the hotel** around midnight, after a perfect day.

Saturday

Saturday started off great, right up to the point when I realised I wasn't wearing any underwear.

To atone for the sin of watching Ivy Paige the night before, I saw Bridget Christie, a feminist comedienne, at 11am.  I arrived a little late and the only seats remaining were in the front row!  I knew I was going to get it and sure enough, right after she did a bit about the new "Bic for Her" pens, she pointed at me and said, "What's that, sir?"  After a moment's pause she said, "I didn't catch that, could you repeat it louder please?"  I was like a deer in the headlights, with no idea what was going on.  Finally she said, "That's a good question.  If you couldn't hear him, he asked why I am talking about Bic pens when I should be talking about female genital mutilation.  I've never been heckled like that before, but I'd just like to say it's because I am a comedienne, and there are just some things that you can't make funny, so all I can do is bring them up tangentially to get people thinking about these things, without addressing them heads on.  Does that answer your question?"  All I could do was dumbly nod my head.

So I left the show and was feeling pretty smug (how many guys do you know that enjoy watching a feminist comedienne?) and was walking down the street when I realised I forgot my underwear.  The underwear I'd worked so hard to buy the day before!  I have a shared bathroom and I'd gotten out of the shower and pulled on my jeans, and never noticed I was missing something!  I can't recall ever going outside without underwear since I was 3. But no problem: There was a 30 minute tour of the Royal Mile that I wanted to do, but after that I had an hour and a half before my next show, so I'd get some lunch and go back to the hotel**. 

Except it turned out the tour was 3 hours, not 30 minutes!!  It was really interesting and I was looking forward to getting to the bottom of the Royal Mile--which I've not been before--but after two and a half hours I had to go to my next show, and we hadn't yet made it to the bottom!  I grabbed a crappy cheese sandwich from the local supermarket and ran halfway across Edinburgh to the next venue, which was Victoria Melody and her dog, Major Tom.  As I expected, the show was brilliant, although the dog was asleep near where I was sitting, and he did smell a bit.

Finally I got some underwear on (at 6pm) and went to the next show, called "Wonder & Joy."  Who knew I didn't like wonder and joy?  Perhaps alcohol was required to appreciate wonder & joy?  I have no idea; I left halfway through.  The ticket was free, so that didn't bother me, but I'd scheduled my Sunday morning around an "atheist church" that the same two people were hosting, and I was not interested in going if it was going to be more of the same.

I then went to a dance program that I did pay for and was absolutely dreadful.  I finished the evening with another free program, a comedy improv, which was okay.

Sunday

Sunday morning started rather late, as I forgot to set my alarm. I quickly threw on my jeans and rushed out for breakfast, making it about 5 minutes before the cut-off time.  I don't remember if I was wearing underwear.

At noon I decided to go to the "Sunday Assembly" atheist church. Perhaps it was because there was no alcohol, or perhaps it was because it was held in the sacred space of a bingo hall (seriously), but it was actually quite lovely, with an inspirational talk from Sandy Tsotvig, a sports broadcaster, comedienne, lesbian, and atheist. Poet Kate Fox also read some of her work, and one line really resonated with me: "You have to have a home to be an alien." Perhaps that's why I don't feel like an alien in England.

Afterwards, I decided to climb Arthur's Seat, the highest point in Edinburgh.  I have no idea why I thought I'd do this, other than I had two hours to kill, the sun was out, and didn't want to spend any money.  Needless to say, I didn't make it.  I didn't even get close.  I am ridiculously out of shape. :-(

The afternoon was pretty ridiculous. I had a ticket for the play "Holes" which they did say was at "a secret seaside location" but the CIA rendition process is less convoluted! The ticket said to meet at a particular theatre. When I got there they told me to go to a parking lot half a mile away. When I got there I boarded a bus which took half an hour to drive 3.5 miles to a town hall building, which just had a pop-up bar. Then someone led us to a sandy beach a couple of blocks away, said the play didn't start until 4:15, and left!

I went and got some ice cream and sun, and came back at 4:10 but there was nobody around!  The play was about 4 people stranded on a deserted island, so I assumed it was going to be on the beach! After walking up and down the beach for 20 minutes, I was pretty pissed off.  Having no place else to go, I walked back to the town hall, figuring I'd wait there until everyone came back.  There was someone there who was quite confused about why I wasn't inside.  It took a few minutes, but I finally figured out the play was in the town hall! So why the &#@! did they take us to the beach?!

In the end, I wished I'd stayed on the beach. Maybe it was a generation thing--several of the younger audience members found it hilarious--but I thought it was fairly tedious and overlong. I thought there might be some backlash when one of the male characters raped a 16 year old girl, but there wasn't. Very odd.  I was grateful to get back on the bus and return to Edinburgh.

Mark Thomas was playing at 7:30pm, but was sold out a week ago.  Nevertheless, I got to the theatre at 7pm to be the first one on the waitlist.  They politely explained that all seats were ticketed so even if they have empty seats, they wouldn't let me in *unless* someone specifically returned an unused ticket. British bureaucracy at its finest!  I was in a queue for one for over half an hour and, not surprisingly, nobody returned any tickets.

But while I was waiting, a clearly disabled man came over and was standing near me, drooling on himself.  So I bought a ticket to see him, instead.

Seriously, he had cerebal palsy, couldn't speak, his entire routine was done with an iPad and the "SpeakIt" voice synthesizer, and he was absolutely brilliant.  What a joy to watch.  I was suddenly so grateful that I didn't get to see Mark Thomas!  (Besides, Mark Thomas will likely be touring with his show later, so I'll probably see him in Reading.)

At this point I had £12 left, which was just enough for a cup of tea and a taxi ride in the morning.  Instead I spent it on one more show, a comedienne from Australia, who was cute but I'm now feeling stupid that I only have 60 pence in my wallet and I will be walking to the train station in the morning.

Still, what a great weekend.

** OK, it was student accommodation at the university, but it was cheap and cheerful!  Until Sunday night, when the guy next to me started snoring so loudly, I couldn't sleep and instead stayed up until 1:30am writing this...

Edinburgh pants

When I was a teenager, I heard George Carlin's skit, "A Place for my stuff."  Of course I was too young to appreciate it, but it always stuck with me.  And the ridiculous thing is, I don't even have that much stuff, but I am painfully aware that it is scattered around the world.  There is stuff--like my sister's paintings--that I left in Pennsylvania.  There is stuff--like my dad's records--that I left in my mom's garage in California.  There is stuff--like an entire house--I left in north London.  Most of what's left is in Reading, although for the past six months that has felt more like a storage unit than home.  I have a suitcase full of stuff in the boot of my car in Runcorn, and a small subset of stuff I'm taking with me to Edinburgh for the weekend.  (And I'm already thinking about what I need to take to Israel next week, and Amsterdam at the end of the month.)

Trying to keep track of all this stuff is quite difficult and eventually leads to failures, which is why I don't have any clean underwear this weekend.  To be fair, the plan was to drop my laundry at the laundromat this morning, but then I remembered I have to catch a train at 1:30pm, a co-worker is giving me a ride, and it is in the exact opposite direction of the laundry, so picking it up was going to be an issue.  I considered packing dirty underwear and going to a laundry in Edinburgh, but that meant sitting around for an hour, and as you'll see below, that isn't an option.  I also considered wearing dirty underwear, but then I thought--what if I get into an accident?

So instead I'll buy more underwear*.  I've already bought more underwear in the past six months than I have in the past five years, combined.  I thought about keeping spare underwear in my car, but then I though--what if I get into an accident?

So to give you an idea of the scale of the Edinburgh fringe, these are the programs I am interested in seeing on Saturday.  All of the shows are an hour except where marked.

10:00    Free History Walking Tours of the Royal Mile (30 minutes)
11:10    Bridget Christie - A Bic for Her (£10)
12:15    Free music at St Giles
12:30    Mugenkyo Taiko Drummers (£15)
12:40    Tony Law (£5)
13:00    Barry on Arthur's Seat, free (30 minutes)
13:10    Jessie Cave and Jenny Bede: Ain't too Proud to Beg (free)
13:15    Afternoon Delight (£5)
13:15    Austerity Pleasures (free)
13:20    Best of the Fest (£12.50)
13:30    Hill and Weedon Fan Club (free)
14:20    Peculiar Case of Kemsley and Todd (free)
14:35    Nathaniel Metcalfe: Enthusiast (free)
14:44    Adam Larter and Ali Brice: Plumpy'nut (pay what you want)
14:45    Joz Norris Has Gone Missing (free)
15:40    Simon Munnery (£10)
16:00    Nick Helm: One Man Mega Myth (£14)
16:00    Karl Schultz: Start the Karl (£5)
16:00    Rachel Parris: The Commission (free)
**16:45    Major Tom (£12)
16:45    Jigsaw (£12)
16:45    Fin Taylor - Cramp (free, 40 minutes)
16:45    Darren Walsh: I am a Giant (pay what you want)
16:55    Kazakoshi (takio drums, £11.50)
17:05    Sight Gags for Perverts (free)
17:40    Will Franken (£10)
17:40    Kieran Hodgson - Flood (£9)
17:45    Pat Cahill: Start (£10)
18:00    Gone Native (folk music, £8)
18:05    Smashed (£14)
18:30    Chalk Farm (£11)
19:00    James Acaster - Lawnmower (£12)
19:15    Ant Dewson: Now That's What I Call Musical Comedy (free)
19:30    David Baddiel (£17.50)
19:30    Sean Hughes - Penguins (£13)
19:30    Mark Thomas 100 Acts of Dissent
**19:30    Sanderson Jones and Pippa Evans - Wonder & Joy (free)
19:50    Thrice (£10)
19:50    Synagogue Slut (free)
20:00    Tommy Holgate: Good Spirits (pay what you want)
20:00    The Events    (90 minutes, £13 preview, sold out)
21:00    Tom Binns Does Ivan Brackenbury and Others (pay what you want)
20:30    Folk @ the Royal Oak (2h 30m, £6)
20:30    Piaf (£17)
**21:00    Squally Showers (90 minutes, £12)
21:50    Claudia O'Doherty: Pioneer (£11.50)
22:00    Felicity Ward: Irregardless (£11)
22:30    Adam Buxton: Kernel Panic (£16)
22:30    Ivy Paige - 'Head' Mistress (£10)
23:30    BattleActs! Improvised Comedy (free)
23:59    Best of the Fest (1h 15m, £10 preview)
00:30    One of Us Might Be Famous (free)

* Someone suggested I buy a kilt in Edinburgh, instead, and then I won't need underwear.
** Already have tickets

It's that time again

The Edinburgh Fringe Festival opens this weekend, with 2,500 performances at 250 venues over 30 days! The festival guide looks like a telephone book. It's manic, it's a buzz, and it's really a cheap weekend.  I'm taking the train, staying three nights in the university dorm, and seeing 5 shows for less than £260!  Plus I'm telling the company I'm commuting home, so they will contribute about £100, and I've got a list of 10 shows that are free and recommended!

I'm seeing the Pajama Men and Victoria Melody, both of whom I adore.  I discovered Victoria Melody by accident last year, when I had a date in north London and the only thing to do was see this one-woman show about pigeon fanciers in a deconsecrated church.  I had no idea what to expect, and she was brilliant! This year she brought out another show which I'll let her describe:

Victoria unknowingly discovered that her dog had prize winning potential at a charity dog show. She seized this opportunity to access the sub culture of this extraordinarily exclusive members only club. Major Tom's first show was a disaster, feeling an overpowering sense of guilt about her dog being criticised. Victoria decided to put herself through the same process by becoming a beauty queen. Major Tom and Victoria increasingly immerse themselves into the obsessive and confusing realm of personal scrutiny as they participate as genuine contestants and aim to win. This project will follow their story. It will reflect on the British fascination with celebrities, beauty, and winning.

(You can also watch a 3-minute video here.)

As you can imagine with a program that has microseconds to grab your attention, some of the titles are quite interesting. Some of my favorites:

Eat a Queer Foetus 4 Jesus
Friends Without Benefits
Do We Need You After the Apocalypse?
A Comprehensive History of the Roman Empire in one hour--with jokes
The Colour Ham
Brandon Burns Hasn't Heard Of You Either
Baconface
Austentatious: An Improvised Jane Austen Novel
Angela Jolie Touched My Neighbour's Goat
Synagogue Slut
Cheese and Crack Whores