There we have it. My third Fringe has finally crawled to an end. It’s been a long one this year but also the best Fringe I’ve yet done. Being here for basically the whole month has been incredible and allowed me to experience so much more of the festival and the city than I ever have before.
At around 7am this morning, I’d done sufficient cleaning to allow myself to sleep for a couple hours. When I woke, it was really just a matter of doing the bathroom, giving a few more areas a once over with a hoover, and removing all the bin bags. (All done with Frazer’s help, naturally). Then the house was back to exact condition as when we’d arrived, the only difference now being our bags waiting in by the front door. This has been the best Fringe accommodation I’ve stayed in, and I can only hope to find something just as good if I’m back next year.
We Ubered our way to the Edinburgh Waverly, and waited there till Frazer’s train was ready to board. We said our goodbyes, and he hurried off to get his seat.
And then there was 1.
I, the last cast member of We Are All Going To Die left in the city, waited for an hour, bought an overpriced sausage roll, and dragged my case over to the appropriate platform when the time came. I got on the train without issue and began my journey home.
And that, loyal readers, is where we find me now. Sat on a train that’s just left Burton-on-Trent, with another 2 1/2 hours until it gets into Taunton. From there I shall be picked up by my father and taken back to good ol’ Yeovil for a couple weeks before I go back to Plymouth and back to normality.
This has been one really fantastic bloody month. As I said before, it’s been my best Fringe yet. I saw thirty-eight shows, twelve of which I still need to finish reviews for at time of writing, but I will finish them. Given how last year’s Fringe was tied up with a lot of emotional turmoil and pain, I’m glad I’ve been able to use this year as a bit of a personal redemption for the festival. The Edinburgh Festival Fringe is once again my happy place, the place I feel most myself, where I most belong, among my own kind of people.
If I could send a message to the Chris of just over a year go, crying and clutching a plastic owl on the coach journey home, I’d just say:
“Hang in there, my luvver. Some things really will get better.”