Virgin Trains? More like I-need-more-gin Trains… am I right?
I wrote the above pun with around four hours sleep and I will continue to write this first edition of the Edinburgh Fringe Diary with all the steam that I have.
Having previously stayed over at a relative’s house, whom I had not seen in quite a few months, I ended up somehow going to bed at 2:00am, admittedly a little bit tipsy, needing to wake up at 6:00am to get properly lathered with hygiene products and cram some jam on toast into my mouth.
With an assistance from a car sharing service that shares the same name as a German word for “over”, “across” or “above”, the adventure officially began by navigating the streets of London to get to King’s Cross.
Not to sound unpatriotic or anything, but I don’t like London – or at least going through London. Big city, big egos, and fighting for a seat on the tube. I’m just a small-town boy used to calm public transport.
Whenever you go to King’s Cross, you have to attempt to try and get a Harry Potter Platform 9 ¾ picture. Alas for me, the line was huge and I did not have time, alongside carrying both my emotional and literal baggage.
Departing from Platform 2 (not 9 ¾) was the 09:00 train to Edinburgh. Having inhaled a cream doughnut and downed a half pint of milk, the four and a half hour journey awaited me.
The train route from London to Edinburgh is very scenic, albeit once you get up to the Scotland bit. Up to that point you need to find ways to entertain yourself.
Luckily, I managed to prepare myself by downloading the entire series of Matt Groening’s new animated comedy Disenchanted on Netflix and seeing how far I could get through. Essentially, Futurama crossed with Game of Thrones, it still held the same humour that made his previous work great.
Although funny and with a strong cast, I did find myself getting distracted by other things (most likely my body needing to sleep, but as previously mentioned, that hasn’t happened yet). Instead, I decided the highlights of both NXT Brooklyn 4 and Summerslam, both of which were not as half as bad as I was expecting.
After a delay in York (10,000 men on the track), I managed get to Edinburgh around 15 minutes late. Having the postcode in hand, I set off my way to the flat.
Onnnnnnly… the postcode was wrong. Defeated, I retreated to the first Scottish café I saw and had warm apple juice with cinnamon inside, because I am a manly, manly man.
Eventually, after another further 40 minutes of walking, I made it to where I will be staying.
This is a mere prologue to this little Fringe diary, including a review of a pro wrestling comedy show, and how my first show in the Fringe goes!