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...
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