The Edinburgh Diaries (Part Three)

Sunday 12th August. Weather: foul and pestilential with persistent rain.

I’ve spent the last few days finding things. These are the things I’ve found:


HURRAH! It was nestling in an unfamiliar cupboard (all the cupboards are unfamiliar when you are staying in somebody else’s gaff) hidden by a set of plates.

My heart sang as I located its lid. For a week we have been making tea the student/work experience way: individual tea bag in individual mug.

I’ve never liked this method; the tea brews too quickly and nobody wants to drink something that looks and tastes like creosote.

Second, the communality of the pot is missing. Making a pot of tea is a political act! You are making tea for yourself, yes, but not just yourself!


We’ve been coming to Edinburgh for years and never thought there might be a beach worth visiting. It’s not foremost in one’s mind when one thinks of the Scottish capital, right?

I’ve never seen Portobello beach depicted on a shortbread tin, for example. But it definitely should be! It’s very attractive with golden(ish) sand and it’s dog friendly all year round. (Approx 10 dogs per 100m squared.)

My dog Ludo, has now spent two happy mornings conversing with other dogs who bark in a Scottish accent but who have welcomed him with open paws.


It pertained to a performance I’d done of the show in preview at the Brighton Fringe back in June.

I’d thought the review, in Voice Magazine*, was both charming and hilarious on the grounds that you’d need a PhD in Women’s Studies to understand it. I hadn’t noticed that it had some all important stars attached to it.

Stars I could have used in my publicity! Stars which would have made me look like a seasoned pro!

Let’s face it though, every bloody show up here comes with a firmament of stars, so maybe it’s not that important.

Some lovely things have happened over this past first week of the Fringe:

  1. Two dear friends from New York came to see my show!
  2. A former student of mine came to see my show!
  3. My son’s former Physics teacher’s wife came to see my show!
  4. My husband’s departmental colleague came to see my show!

I have lovely friends, ex students and others known to me and their support has been terrifically important. It is a vote of confidence in a candidate I wouldn’t turn out to vote for myself.

And I’m making new friends through the show. Not just fellow acts but members of the audience too.

Thursday night’s friends were Heather (she of the tray of shots), Anne (requested hand cream on entering my show) and Davina (supplied the hand cream), while on Friday night I palled up with Alex and Katty, post graduate students in the city.

Last night’s new pal was Faye.

As I ranted on through the show, Faye was responding more enthusiastically than most. I kept looking at her because it’s very reassuring to refer to a smiling face when there are some uncomprehending Spaniards on the front row.

At one point, I noticed Faye and her daughter share a knowing look. (I have become an avid reader of audiences by now.)

As I shook my bucket at the end, Faye introduced herself and told me she was an old girl of the school I’d been at for sixth form and which features (somewhat negatively) in my show.

Bearing in mind how few girls will have passed through that school during the period I explore, it was quite something for one to turn up at my show. It made my night. We’ve swapped deets.

So, it’s all been going very well.

For the last few nights we’ve been full. The front of house staff have been heard to say, ‘Weather Girl, full’ into their walkie talkies.

I am the Weather Girl. And I am full!





You may also like


  1. 10 down and 15 to go eh? That’s a long old August. Still, you seem to be enjoying it and getting on well, the main thing I suppose. I’ve never been to Edinburgh; it’s well on my list of places go but it’s a long way from Netley so I don’t think it’s going to be this month (although the weather’s just as shite down here!). Keep up the good work.

  2. Gosh, Sam! An eye-opener when I read the review, to wit, “Her delightfully crude character full of obscene references to sex and female physicality is somewhat signature of her act in total honest exhibition; she possesses a dejection to the prohibitions primarily initiated by the taboos of misogynistic etiquette, emphasising dialogue on how comprehension and raw expression can work in tandem, rather than as separate or faulty traits.”

    I think that translates as “Rude and funny” although my lack of a university education may occasion a serious misreading of the reviewer’s drift . . . Correct me, please, if so.

    When you’re next on the sofa next to Sally Taylor I’ll see you in a slightly-different, but admiring, light. Can we have more of the same, with or without ***** substitutions, in your blog postings in future?


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.