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They say a month isn't long enough to do Edinburgh Festival, but they never said anything about a day.
On a whim, because there was a frighteningly free weekend-long gap in the middle of the summer that looked dangerously the right size for a lie-in, I fled to Edinburgh on Sunday morning for my first Fringe Festival.
I'm a comedy enthusiast (as in, enthusastic about comedy, rather than a trainspotter) and this was my Mecca. But in turns out that 24 hours isn't even long enough to take in all the posters, let alone a fraction of the actual shows themselves.
Still, thanks to Tom Wrigglesworth - a nice man from Sheffield who rescues old ladies on public transport between making people laugh - I was entertained, lived to tell the tale, got a couple of hours kip on a sofa, and made the 6am Monday morning train to dribble all the way to work.
Next year, I'll do the whole month if it kills me. Which it will, if 24 hours was anything to go by.
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Tags: edinburgh festival tom wrigglesworth mick ferry tom allen comedy kate wellham
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