We had possibly the most uneventful day in LNGF's Fringe history yesterday. A long overdue early night/lie in, coupled with the fact that we couldn't get in to any shows because everything was sold out and a performance last night that we felt went fine means there's nothing much to write about.
So instead, let's talk about something else that takes over Edinburgh-based peoples lives in August. Food.
I have never eaten so much crap in my entire life. I haven't had a vegetable in two weeks, unless you count the obligatory post show chips, on which we smother a variety of equally unhealthy liquids. I, being a Northerner at heart, always opt for gravy. Dave, on the other hand, goes for the mysterious substance found only in Edinburgh and known only as "soss" (sauce, in English).
Matt is certainly able to pack it away duri
ng the Fringe. I remember last year, when we shared a bedroom (and a bed) sitting up at four in the morning, watching aghast as he demolished TWO Rustlers microwaveable burgers, a huge packet of kettle chips and an entire Victoria sponge, all washed down with a litre of Coke. And when he had crammed the last slice of sponge in, he rolled over, turned off the light and went to sleep, as his stomach went into overtime.
One Fringe habit we always break is the group meal. It's nice before a show to all get together, sit down and eat a meal as a family. It relaxes us and gets us focused for the evening ahead. We also usually take it in turns to cook and wash up each day (except Richard, who, in reference to the mountain of washing up he had failed to deal with three days running, once uttered the now legendary phrase "Well, as long as it gets done.") Inevitably, however, when we begin seeing shows at different times of day and as friends and family come up to visit, the group splinters and the customary gimp Chillis/Bologneses become fewer and fewer. Cheers, Rich.
Another Fringe favourite is the Tatty Dog, a sausage wrapped in mash and deep fried. Actually more appetising than it sounds. We're also a stones throw from a shop called Choco Latte, the most ridiculously chocolate stuffed shop I've ever set foot in. Everything is covered in melted chocolate and chopped up Mars Bars. I had seven pints and two Jaeger bombs last night, more than enough for a lightweight like me, and yet felt better this morning than I did half an hour after eating three quarters of the muffin I bought from that shop. So nice, but so sickening.
Well, probably better wrap things up now. Just time to mention Tizzle, who is a dab hand at a Bolognese. Me, Matt, Rich and Lee are all pretty terrible in the kitchen, hence the dash on our allocated nights to put the frozen pizzas in the oven and claim we've cooked dinner. However, I suppose it would only be fair of me to say Dave is the best cook, as he usually does most of the cooking (and he's just made me a bacon sandwich in exchange for writing this blog).
It was a very good sandwich.
PS- A nice ★★★★ review from Edinburgh Festivals Magazine here.