The Edinburgh Festival Fringe turns 70 this year—happy birthday! It is just about conceivable that an audience member or performer from that original fringe will be up in Edinburgh this year. But I doubt it. The Fringe, marvellous as it is, takes years off your life. It must be equivalent to smoking a thousand cigarettes and drinking just as many glasses of box wine—which, incidentally, is something you often end up doing at the Fringe anyway.
It’s a wildly varied experience depending on what kind of person you are, where and what time you’re performing and who you’re living with. But it’s always tough. Yes there are millions of tickets bought each year but none of them seem to be for your show. Performing your guts out for three people (one of whom is asleep, another is eating and the other is checking how to get to the Pleasance on Google Maps) is much more exhausting than feeding off the laughter and energy of a full house. For some actors, this might be their first month-long run. For others, it will be their first experience of doing a show at eleven in the morning after finishing their first and last hike up Arthur’s Seat three hours before. By the end of August you’ll be spent. Your energy,
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