I am a pain in the arse, there is unequivocally no denying that. I am outright opinionated, argumentative, stubborn and particularly hard work. You only have to ask any member of my family to recognise the expanse of my stiff personality. Introduce alcohol into the equation and things escalate further and fast. My obstinate angle can be understood as troublesome but I consider my prospective in no way reflective of my morals, principles or ethics.
I was raised in a strict environment, taught to respect others, to always be polite, considerate, courteous and understanding of different outlooks and circumstance. My parents would be altogether disheartened if I purposely behaved in a manner unfit within their values and code of conduct. Although my loose-tongue and unhinged persona have led me into some interesting situations over the years, now my resistance and advance has certainly softened, I can find hilarity where I once found venom or I look now for understanding where once I saw malice.
We met on the platform and boarded the 11.30am train, heading south from Dundee to Edinburgh. Four fun girls, all as stylish as the other and each carrying a bottle of prosecco and plastic cups. Jen, home from New Zealand, where she manages a chain of world class bistros and cafés. India, enjoying her summer break from acting school. Hayley and I had taken a day off from our work/family schedule. You could say the nonsense began when we left the train carrying just one bottle of prosecco, the remainder filled the cups, balancing between our teeth as we tried to locate our tickets. India regrettably managed to pour hers down the blouse of a station worker, all looking at each other aghast, flamboyantly falling into fits of hilarious laughter. I decided it was going to be a good day.
Making our way to St Andrews Square, we enjoyed conversing in the gardens whilst supping expensive gin. Talks of the scandalous Lady W intermixed with selfies, tacos and curly fries. Empty glasses were our cue to find the nearest off licence as we made our way through the cobbled lanes and twisting whynds of Edinburgh’s old town. Arriving amongst the revellers, tourists and performers on the Royal Mile.
Heading towards the Grassmarket we bumped into Phil Jupitus, star of comedy quiz show ‘Never Mind the Buzzcocks’, who initially wasn’t considerably pleasant to the four young women who riotously invaded his solitude and plonked themselves on his lap, five minutes later and a few ghastly jokes, we had won him over. A swift top up and we were on our way once more, stampeding towards the Dance Space, home to our choice of performance.
Frida Kahlo is an artist I’ve always advanced to, the vibrancy of her work and her colourful fight and strength of character leaves me in wonderment of the Mexican painter. It was a treat to bag the last remaining seats to a five star performance depicting her life. Discovering on arrival the portrayal would be presented through the medium of contemporary dance, we discreetly left, admitting that bouts of giggles throughout the production may not be found appropriate.
Continuing our wanderings we meandered towards the Cowgate, meeting along the way our friend, Artist and artisan beer enthusiast Evan Rattray, who had been in the capital selling his latest Typography Map. We soaked up the atmosphere and listened to live music in an array of different bars. I persuaded my friends to join me at the Sin Club, to watch a comedian I had met on a previous London trip.
Chris Fitchew and his show ‘Ooops’
‘We all f*ck up. But let’s just unite and say ooops, laugh about it and crack on. Fitchew talks us through his ‘ooops’ moments from dealing with exes, job destruction and a smidgen of public humiliation.’ (The list).
Ooops can perfectly describe this show, which got off to a raring start. We were seated in the front row, which of course encouraged the comedian to prey on our tipsy and playful demeanour. Hayley when prompted giddily battered on a set of imaginary drums and Evan laughed off nudges made towards his female company. I played dupe to a brutal personal attack but although in shock, simply sniggered it off. Chris failed to hold the interest of the small audience, who in their droves left and his show flopped. Ooops, if only he had kept his cool.
A kebab and a strut back to the train station brought our trip to a close. A grotesque text from a certain comedian, describing my friends and I as vile, crass, rude and belonging in the gutter, could not even nearly put a damper on our fantastic day.
Edinburgh Festival until next year!
Long live the VEF and learn some manners QUEEN!!!