Fully rested after our night in the Edinburgh Marriott we caught the express bus to Princes Street. The bus driver was possibly the most cheerful bus driver I’ve ever encountered. Completely the antithesis of last night’s taxi driver. I’d say you have to be in the right frame of mind to cope with the driver on your bus whistling Lou Reed’s ‘Perfect Day’ at the top of his lungs and I think we were in that frame of mind.
The rest of the passengers possibly less so.
We disembarked at Princes Street and then had to drag our luggage up about a billion steps to Edinburgh Old Town and our lodgings on Candlemaker Row. Our hosts, Joy and Graham, were a delightful older Scottish couple and we had a lovely chat, our politics being simpatico, before heading for a bite to eat at a nice Italian restaurant called Vittoria’s on George IV Bridge. Delightful pasta. It was just past a bar and beir keller in the name of ‘Frankenstein’s’. That was where I first sampled haggis on the Stag trip back in 2003.
Fed and watered we then went to Underbelly at Cowgate, just round the corner, to see our first show (“Agent of Influence – The Secret Life of Pamela More; see review 1). That was diverting, but chatting in the bar with Caroline proved problematic as we’ve both got the signs of a cold and are bunged up each in one ear. It was a chilling insight into what old age may bring: “Eh? What did you say? Speak up!! Etc.”
After the show we explored around our flat and found lots of small venues,many pubs, lots of delightful and dinky shops and, best of all, a Sainsbury’s Local. Civilisation at last! I also happened upon a lap dancing club called Burke and Hares that definitely didn’t feature on my last visit to Edinburgh, no siree, your Honour.
We had a breather at the apartment after that before walking back down to the other side of Princes Street to see Gary Delaney at the Stand (see review 2) followed by a walk through the Edinburgh drizzle to the Queens Arms for supper and cocktails. Caroline had booked us a booth, so we were both snugly essconsed in that. I had haggis lollipops and a steak, washed down by a Honeyed Ice Tea (Jack Daniels, peach schnapps, lemon,peach bitters and lemonade); very moreish. Caroline had chicken wings, a burger and a ‘Let’s Talk Nonsense’ (Edinburgh gin, rhubarb, lemon, vanilla and rhubarb bitters.)
And we did; we did talk nonsense.
There was two hours until our last show for the day (Das Vegas, see review 3) and we were feeling a bit weary so we allowed ourselves the luxury of a cab up to Candlemaker Row. The driver was a nice Indian gentleman who sadly bemoaned the fact that his kids would rather have a takeaway pizza rather than a nice homemade curry.
We rested.
After resting we walked back down to the New Town and the Voodoo Rooms for our last show of the day. We took the News Steps (a long flight of steep,uneven and potentially deadly stone stairs) to get us down to Waverley and there were a pair of idiot youths seemingly determined to suffer serious spinal and cranial injuries by sliding down the banisters. The only reason they didn’t die in front of us was that they were wearing huge backpacks that cushioned their many and various tumbles.
We eventually found the Voodoo Rooms (they’re apparently hidden from view for some reason) and both agreed it we’d saved the best and funniest show of the day for last. On the walk back, at around midnight, the evenings festivities had still barely started. So many shows and so little time.
I wish I’d come back sooner…
The Flog 