Caitriona Dowden on the best and the worst of the Frigne

Caitriona Dowden is back at the Edinburgh Fringe with a 'feel-good show about apocalyptic dread. Here hse shares what hse can't get enough of at the festival, her most embarrassing Edinburgh experience and the worst thing about the Fringe. Apart from the cost of accommodation, obviously…

Fringe Binge

A lot of people complain about Edinburgh’s hilliness, but personally I am a huge fan. 

I live in Oxford, which is almost completely flat – the only thing resembling a hill within walking distance of my house is a medieval mound, and you have to buy a ticket to climb up it. 

I usually spend the first week of the Fringe rebuilding muscles in my legs that I’d forgotten existed, but it’s worth it for the novelty of actual gradient. I never get bored of being able to see parts of the city that aren’t directly in front of my face, but instead below or above me. 

On the final day of the Fringe, I always walk up the ultimate Edinburgh hill: Arthur’s Seat. With the city shrinking below me, the reviews, stars, and audience numbers that have ruled my life for the last month begin to feel insignificant. And then I climb back down and immediately start worrying about next year’s show.

Fringe Cringe

Last year, I did my solo debut at Banshee Labyrinth – reputedly the most haunted building in Scotland. 

I claim not to believe in ghosts, but I will immediately start checking over my shoulder and googling ‘how to perform an exorcism’ the minute I am confronted with something spooky, like flickering lights, dimly-lit basements, or the nighttime. 

Each morning, I would arrive half an hour or so before my show to sort out my tech, check for supernatural activity, and hype myself up by listening to my pre-show playlist – mostly Gregorian chant, which may or may not have contributed to the ambient spookiness. 

On one such morning, I was plugging my laptop into the speakers when I felt an unmistakable presence behind me. As I turned, I found myself face to face with a shadowy figure standing in the doorway, just beyond the glow of the spotlight. Forgetting all of the incantations I had learned during my self-directed exorcist training, I screamed at the top of my voice. Unfazed, the apparition stepped forwards into the light. 

‘Sorry, what time does the next show start? Have I got time to get a drink?’

I instructed the very-much-alive audience member that doors would open in ten minutes, and went back to my monastic chants as nonchalantly as possible. 

Fringe Whinge 

My Fringe Whinge is, without a doubt, flyering. 

Not so much the existence of flyering, but my own personal shortcomings in the field. 

I try to flyer for my own show because I always hear people say that personal, positive interactions with the performer are the most effective way of bringing in audiences.

I used to think I was nailing this, but after a while I realised that what I was having with passers-by were mostly just interactions – personal and positive not so much. 

Every year, I watch my fellow flyerers on the Royal Mile and study their technique. They smile, fire out snappy pitches, and proffer pieces of paper with a gusto I can only aspire to. By contrast, when I find the courage to intercept a passer-by, I instantly forget what my show is called, what comedy is, and where I am. 

But then I remember that if I want to be successful, I have to learn how to sell myself unapologetically. I muster all of my performer’s confidence, hold out a flyer, and, avoiding eye contact, hit them with a tried and tested line: ‘I’m very good.’

 However well this works, the pile of flyers in my hand doesn’t seem to shrink, and I realise that Edinburgh’s hills were never my friend – I am basically Sisyphus. If Sisyphus had chosen to roll the boulder of his own free will, invited press to watch him rolling the boulder, and paid lots of money to have his face printed on the boulder. 

• Caitriona Dowden: Dance Like Everyone's Dancing is on at PBH's Free Fringe at Carbon during the Edinburgh Fringe

Published: 2 Aug 2025