The line of giant posters down the side of the Pleasance was taken down today, there’s still a few boards fastened around streetlights and traffic signs, not noticeable unless you look directly at one. Instagram posts have shown Fringe folk leaving Edinburgh, returning home. Was it a farewell hug that left me with a sneaky little present? … my throat has been threatening me for the last three days, it may be winning. It really started niggling late Tuesday night but I wasn’t going to not see The Scat Rats at Binkies at midnight, a nice final bookend to my Fringe. Hell, I hadn’t seen them all August! It was right at the start of the Fringe when I saw them in Stramash (hence bookends).

My Fringe proper finished with two class acts, that wonderful class antipodean Dame Granny Smith followed by Mr Tuck’s sublime Scaramouche Jones. Hahaha, can’t believe I didn’t spot that before, Smith and Jones, in the same afternoon (certain age groups will put Alas and Alias before those two names to make a couple of great tv series from once upon a time). Both shows had full audiences, marvellous, fringing to the very end.

An Evening with Dame Granny Smith was so so lovely and bittersweet, almost nostalgic for something past. And David Salter, such a lovely, talented guy, a saint for putting up with her! Mind, it’s easy to get swept up in the Dame’s aura, the afternoon’s participating audience member really got into the role and I think went over and beyond what Salter was expecting (from his reaction, anyway). I’m very glad I caught the show, that early afternoon time had a lot going on that I fancied this year, too many annoying five, ten minute overlaps (oh, to have Hermione’s watch).

I managed to grab a quick pic with the Dame, before heading over to the Big Yurt (I’m not sure if she was all agog to meet me or silently screaming in fear of being eaten)

As I walked through the Potterow Underpass I heard a hearty laugh ahead, oh yay! I’d know that laugh anywhere, Will Seaward was in the queue for Scaramouche Jones; how marvellous to bump into him again! (Had to get a pic, of course) The old clown himself, Scaramouche Jones, was mingling wordlessly with the milling crowd (I fancied to ask for a quick photo with him, but time was short, and I felt a tad unworthy).

Oh, Scaramouche Jones is a most marvellous tale. Thom Tuck holds the audience in the palm of his hand, entranced, as he recounts Scaramouche’s one hundred years. Truly it could have been written for him, Tuck is so brilliant in the part, and I say this having seen him play it ten years ago, a performance that has stuck in my mind since (I look forward to seeing it again in 2035). It would be a marvellous thing if one performance had been filmed each decade passed, how wonderful to see the progression 💛

I also paid another visit to the final performance of Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine at Dovecot Studios on the Sunday afternoon. Now I could be wrong but I think one of the guys from Crybabies was in the audience; such a shame they couldn’t make it up with their new production. This time round I saw the overall arc better over the sketches; I must say, those two have amazing voice control for the length of their woahs between bits (that probably reads really weird, but if you ever get to see Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine you’ll know what I mean). Sometimes shows can seem to overally point out their own cleverness, Finlay and Joe don’t do that, the funny flows naturally and abundantly with these two – and they were lovely when I asked for a photo with them!

While I’m on a roll here (the Chilean Gewürztraminer I opened is helping somewhat!) I’ll mention The Mothman Cometh, that I saw in the final week. It was amongst my cuttings and then I noticed him on a few occasions flitting madly around the Cowgate early evening, odd and kinda sweet, and occasionally on the Half Price Hut list. I hadn’t been in The Subway in donkeys (for many years), some bits were very familiar, like the stage area (back last century it was a place to go after an evening shift in Pizza Hut, with tips enough for a couple of drinks).

I’d vaguely heard of the Mothman myth, and my sightings of this strange creature, well, I had to go find out more. It was very dark in there! A lot of the time we could just see two red circles and hear his voice, only a mere hint of his body shape in the misty darkness. He was troubled by odd glitches when pop songs would burst out of him, and a strange Void was always close by, but despite these troubles the Mothman was actually a benign, humorous creature that just wanted friends that understood him. Oh, that sounds a tad maundling, The Mothman Cometh was very funny with plenty of audience participation, you just had to be willing to embrace the surreality.

It’s very late, again! Edinburgh Farmers Market in the morning, I must to sleep. Next time I’ll wrap up this year’s Fringe, oo, maybe even some awards! It will be my 499th blog post, who’d have thunk it!

Sweet dreams, toodle pip, mes amis!