John Tothill's Edinburgh Binge, Cringe and Whinge

John Tothill is at the Edinburgh Fringe performing his show Thank God This Lasts Forever at the Pleasance Courtyard at 8.45pm.  Here he shares what he can't get enough of at the festival, his most embarrassing Edinburgh experience and the worst thing about the Fringe. Apart from the cost of accommodation, obviously…

Edinburgh binge

There’s a place called Mosque Kitchen, which does food that’s so nice it’s almost quite moving as an experience. We’re talking tears-in-your-eyes-beautiful saag paneer.

A typical weekday afternoon for me is spent queuing up to have an extremely generous portion plopped onto my plate, waddling over to a table with a big smile on my face, plunging my whole body into the food, and then immediately getting back up to join the back of the queue in an elaborate disguise, that I might enjoy the food anew. 

Heck, sometimes I won’t even sit down at the table. I’ll eat my food in the queue ready for the next round. What are you gonna do? Arrest me? 

I refuse to see any show at the Fringe. It’s all about Mosque Kitchen. Were it not for logistics, I wouldn’t be present for my own show. It is a matter of significant chagrin to me that between the hour of 8.45pm and 9.45pm, I won’t be having saag paneer at Mosque Kitchen on account of my own stand-up performance.

Edinburgh cringe

Last year, after overindulging myself on the final night of the Fringe, I bravely slept through my 800 alarms, and so missed my train home. I booked a long-ass coach for the next day and (now this is fascinating) decided that it would be best to do exactly the same thing again. Scholars still debate the exact figure, but the price of these mistakes seems to be anything from £80 to £7,800,983. I will never, ever, ever make this mistake again. (If I do, please kindly burn this letter.)

Edinburgh whinge 

Edinburgh is the most beautiful city in the world, but I don’t not wish it was a bit flatter, and I don’t hate the idea of it being sunnier, either. 

I appreciate that that’s not within the remit of the Fringe Society. 

Okay, here’s a stupid thing that everyone will disagree with, but hear me out. I actually think the Fringe could be longer. There’s something about four weeks that doesn’t quite sit with human cognition. I think performers and festival-goers treat it like it’s two weeks long, so they throw all their time, energy and money at it, and then halfway through realise that it’s actually impossibly long and you’re starting to sink.

If it were nine weeks long, I reckon it would be more normal to do some of the festival, to come and go a bit more, and to pace oneself a bit. 

Am I making my own personal lack of self-management everyone else’s problem? Almost certainly. Do I understand that this would make the Fringe deeply unsustainable for the city and festival-goers alike? Perhaps. But I am not a policy-maker. I am not even a comedian. I was ChatGPT the whole time.

Published: 29 Jul 2024