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1. It will rain
Persistently. In 2008, it rained every day, for the whole month. As a newcomer, I found this a little excessive. ‘Of course it’s raining,’ said my companion, ’It’s August. It always rains in August’. So why do the good burgers of Edinburgh invite the world to visit in the rainiest month possible? Well, it’s good weather for indoor pursuits. My own theory is that the arrival of legions of professional entertainers is planned specifically to stop the sun-deprived, vitamin-D deficient locals from throwing themselves in a lemming-esque unison from The Crags in damp despair. Bring an umbrella.
2. "I'm sorry, that was the July price"
According to Edinburgh’s Evening News, a record number of residents are putting their homes up for rental during the Festival. Rents are about two-and-a-half times the normal rate during Festival season. Those creatures you see in the alleyways are not zombie’s, but sleep deprived young locals with kinks in their necks from sleeping on their parent’s couch while they make the equivalent of four months’ wages renting out their inner-city flats to tourists.
3. There’s a little problem with transport.
Edinburgh is building a little tram line. Though modest by comparison to the networks of Lisbon or Melbourne, it is causing chaos of truly gargantuan proportions, including very many large holes in the ground and closure of the main thoroughfare of Princes Street. In the city centre, there are streets completely blocked to cars, buses temporarily diverted to alternative routes, and things suddenly going one-way that never have before. Temporary barriers and fencing feature heavily. It’s not all bad news, though. Getting around on foot is fine, and most Festival venues are within walking distance of each other. It is hilly here, though, so allow an extra ten minutes for resting half way up the hills if your gym membership has lapsed. If you get bored, you can play a quick game of ‘where’s my bus stop today’ to fill in the time.
4. You’re not the only person that thought this was a good idea.
During the Festival, the population of the city swells like a boil to twice its usual size. For those who live here and are accustomed to getting from A to B at their own pace with very little difficulty, Festival time can be a teensy bit trying. The pedestrian traffic jam that occurs all year around the statue of Greyfriars’ Bobby spreads like a tumour through the Old Town, until every tiny precipitous Close is bulging with bum-bags and Gortex. You may only see one t-shirt that says ‘Get out of my way: I live here,’ but you will see a few faces wearing the same message (including mine, I must admit). If they look like they actually have a normal job and are trying to get to work on time, it’s polite to oblige.
5. You will miss stuff you really want to see
Unless of course, you can swing some weird science and do some cloning or something. This is the key festival go-ers dilemma. With the Fringe, Book, International, Art Festival, Mela and the Comedy Festivals, and probably a few others I have forgotten, all going on in August, even the most anal planners among you will have timetabling clashes. It’s that good. Just remember that for every acclaimed genius, there are probably about three undiscovered ones at bargain basement prices testing their wings in some small venue around the corner, waiting just for you.
6. You will see stuff you really want to miss
I am thinking here chiefly of hen’s parties, bucks parties, and divorce parties. These tend to congregate around the Cowgate area. If you see a large fibreglass cow’s arse sticking out of a high wall, you are in the zone. The hen’s parties tend to feature stretch limos, little headdresses of sparkly stars wobbling on springs, feather boas, and a lot of hot pink and bling. The current fashion for buck’s nights seems to be dressing up in plastic superhero costumes. Both often involve specially printed commemorative t-shirts, and so much alcohol that any attempt in conversation from those outside the circle is doomed to fail.
7. There will be singing.
People do it quite a lot, here, particularly blokes after a few pints, and not necessarily because they are good at it. Football season starts half way though August so there’s months worth of pent up football songs waiting for lusty release. Bear this and the festival-time extended licences in mind if you are an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type are deciding between a room next to a pub and a room next to a haberdashers. (Tip: If you want to join in, make sure have the right song for the right pub. Many are shared territory, but singing Hibs songs in a Hearts pub is foolish. A Celtic song in a Rangers pub is downright suicidal. )
8. You will have a great time.
Chances are that everyone you meet will be having one too. Everyone is getting festive (festering?), and it’s infectious. Every theatre, church hall, school annex, nook and cranny hides a performance, some bizarre, some mystifying, but many truly remarkable.
9. There is respite.
If the unbridled hilarity all gets too much, you won’t have to go too far for respite. Take a walk up to Calton Hill or, if you are fitter and more ambitious, up to Arthur’s Seat and check out the 360 degree views. Chill out in The Meadows, or play a spot of golf at Bruntsfield Links. For a bit of quiet art, take a walk along the Water of Lieth and Visit Dean’s Gallery and the Gallery of Modern Art, or just slip into the National Galleries on The Mound, right in the heart of town. All are free.
Before you leave, pick a vantage point, like George IV Bridge, and take a moment to look at the city. It is handsome, grandiose, and ornate. With the medieval labyrinths of the Old Town and the clean Georgian lines of the New, plenty of fiddly Victoriana thrown in, and all perched on a dramatic steepled landscape, there’s plenty to look at.
10. Yes, they do wear kilts.
For those of you unfamiliar with the British Isles, this is not just something Prince Charles does when he’s trying to get down with the Provinces, but a standard form of formal dress. If you see a chap in the pub wearing a kilt, chances are he is on his way to a ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee) formal dinner, wedding, or a funeral. Or he might just be on his way to a rugby International. Unless he is one of the pipers busking outside St Giles Cathedral or the station, he is not doing it for entertainment. And no, he probably doesn’t want his picture taken.
1 comments:
This is really good, Bridge. I'd like to read something like that in the Age. Want to come to Edinburgh. But not in Festival time... obviously...
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