Adam Riches Rides! A Rolling Stone & A Bolivian flute.

Just fallen in the door after another frantic day of fringing. Saw 3 shows.

First things first hit Leo’s Beanery for a coffee and piece of homemade blueberry tart – thank you God great start to the day.

Then dodging the bullets of rain to Assembly. Not sure what to see, hit the info office where my pals 16 year old daughter is working. Not to ask her what was on but to tell her the photos she posted on facebook include quite a lot of male genitalia. I know she said. Ok as long as he does. Oh yeh she said he loves it.  Fair enough.

So by time alone we chose to see ‘  A Solitary Choice ‘ and sloped in 3 minutes late. It was great. 1 hour of being rapt as this wonderful Australian woman talked us through the equivalent of a mid-life crisis. I won’t spoil it suffice to say there is a Bolivian flute player involved and we all felt for her, him and the flute.

Flute player live on Princes Street August 2010

As we came out into the daylight – or as near as you get in August in Edinburgh – striding down to Princes Street our ears picked up at a melifluous sound which got louder as we approached the corner only to come face to face with a Bolivian flute player and his family. ‘It’s him!’ I shouted ‘Stop!’  said Mum. ‘God he is rather attractive’. So we stood and watched. And tried not to blush having heard a fictional story which was in danger of coming true. As you can see – photo- they are all gorgeous shiny haired men.

In recovery mode we headed for Bar Rioja on Jeffrey Street.  Arthur Smith comedian and cockney hilarity merchant was sitting outisde enjoying his lunch as we took a table. My pal Fiona is doing his PR and told me he wouldn’t let any PR or press into his show unless they were juggling with kippers – amazingly  a few dedicated people have done it.

Pinchos and a half hundred weight of calamaries - slurp

Quite why is beyond me. The smell of kippers takes about 3 weeks to get off your fingers but hey ho. However, Bar Rioja was great. Iggy Campos the guy who owns it was in evidence running around as his charming staff looked after us brilliantly. Calamaries, pinchos, meatballs, salad and a couple of glasses  of rosado. It was great. Really authentic,  in fact I think I’ll have my birthday there this year – a squid and a bucket that’s all I want out of life these days.

Onwards to The Pleasance and let’s take pot luck. We wanted a show at about 4 and so after shuffling into the box office and knowing nothing we bought tickets for Adam Riches Rides! We went to queue as it was only 10 minutes to go. There wasn’t one. Oh for Gods sake let’s get a drink we may need it. As we stood at the bar I phoned the oracle, Dynamite,  who googled and told me ‘surreal comedy, audience particpation, if you are scared easily don’t go. No-one seems to have reviewed it yet’. ‘ I looked at my 79 year old mother.Are you scared easily?’ No!  bugger it’ she said’ in for a penny’. So we headed back to the venue. When I say venue I mean container. Small maybe 60 seats? Maybe less. We trudged in. The doors shut. We inhaled.

Aye aye - this is the boy - bloody funny

One hour later red eyed, breathless, sore from laughing me were disgorged back into the real world.  It’s hard to describe the show. Laugh out loud. Guffaw infested. Adam Riches is f****** f hilarious. Off his chump. Slapstick and yes surreal.  To begin with this rather swarthy character comes striding on, takes the piss out of himself and the immediate all encompassing universal thought that applies to both men and women that they are too damn good looking to be funny is dispelled instantly.  Go. Really. Make your best friend sit in the front row. This bloke is a tonic. A double gin and tonic.

Wearing the red nose to detract from the open spaver

Back in the Pleasance Courtyard I met Dynamite who had just been to see Arthur Smith. Good? yeh but his spaver (flies) were undone for the whole show but we were too scared to tell him in case it was a trap. Well it is a trap I said, of sorts.
Then Ronnie Wood turned up. Thin legged black haired and unmistakable. God no wonder he ran off with an 18 year old, anyone olders body mass would have made him look like a twiglet. So quick glass of vino collapso and off to Reel to real. Cutting real film with slick, musical performance. Singing In The Rain, I’m going To Wash That Man Right Out of My hair and many many other iconic musical numbers were belted out. Tip top. Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly and Marilyn Munro all came to life in front of our eyes. Just the show biz.

Home now, glass in hand, reflecting on what a great bloody day that was. A holiday in Edinburgh. A day out at the fringe. A  staycation. Fab. Bring It On.


Writer & broadcaster.

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