POPPED up to Edinburgh to enjoy the world’s largest arts festival? Here is the cavalcade of nightmares that awaits you at the Fringe.
Pretentious shows
The Fringe Festival is famous for its comedy, but there’s also lots of up-itself theatre for you to endure. You wouldn’t normally watch a moving account of one woman’s menstrual cycle told through the medium of contemporary dance and glove puppets, and after seeing it you’ll wish you hadn’t.
Twee Scottish Edinburgh
Edinburgh is a tourist trap just like any other major city. That means your hip cultural experience will be undermined by the presence of gift shops full of a thousand varieties of tartan tat, and bagpipers on every street corner. And the worst part is you kind of like it.
Pushy flyer bastards
You understand that people have got shows to promote, but that’s what posters are for. During the Fringe the Royal Mile becomes a gauntlet populated by in-your-face students and aspiring comics desperately trying to recoup their printing costs. Strangely their aggressive manner doesn’t tempt you to see them perform.
The f**king price of everything
From the price of booze to the accommodation, a trip to the Fringe will do a better job of wiping out your bank account than your next energy bill. Even getting to the sodding thing costs a fortune, and that’s before you buy tickets to anything. At least the really shit stuff is free.
Neds waiting to deck you
The Fringe is the Christmas of the Scottish hooligan calendar. Neds will make the hallowed pilgrimage from Glasgow through to Edinburgh, then lurk around near the Underbelly to beat up unsuspecting punters as they stagger home. For first-timers, getting headbutted by a wannabe Begbie is a rite of passage.
Student revues who think they’re Beyond the Fringe
Peter Cook and co. ushered in a new age of comedy back in the 60s, and the gaggle of teenage stand-ups you’re currently watching are pissing on that legacy. If only their dads had paid them more attention during their formative years they might have gone into engineering instead, and saved everyone this horror.
The fear of missing out
It’s impossible to see every show at the Fringe, meaning you’re going to miss an act you’ve got your eye on. This will feel even more devastating when you realise you made the wrong choice and now you have to sit through a punishingly shit improv musical, which you can’t just leave because you’re sat in the front row.
Your mate’s terrible stand-up routine
It’s just you and them in some pub attic, and they’re rattling off the weakest material of the whole Fringe. Out of obligation you’ll laugh at the expected intervals, even though a real friend would politely stop them and give them some life advice along the lines of ‘give it the f**k up, mate’. The worst thing is you paid £12 for this wasted hour.
