Unlike most of my family and friends, I can’t really get excited over the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
I know I must appear like an old grump but every year I dread August and the hassle the Fringe adds to my day.
I work in Edinburgh, getting the train or occasionally the bus every morning to our nation’s capital and my office in the city centre.
For the whole month, my journey to work, lunch break and journey home is made far more difficult thanks to the sea of tourists, street performers and flyer-hander-outers that take over the city.
I’ve mentioned previously I’m a creature of habit and most lunchtimes I get a baked potato from the same cafe to enjoy either at my desk or, weather permitting, at the park.
But not in August.
The shop is queued out the door and with only an hour, I have to make do with a packaged sandwich instead.
I did decide to brave the queue one Wednesday, but after 30 minutes stuck behind the very loud Marvin and Sue from Nebraska who insisted on calling my second city ‘Edin-borrow’ and moaning about the lack of air conditioning I vowed not to go back until September.
And every time I venture out of the office, I’m accosted by young arty-types thrusting flyers for shows in my hand or pleading with me to come to see their one-man show about space mice or such nonsense.
In short, while the Festival is great for visitors, people who live and work in the capital often hold a grudge.
As everyone enjoys themselves, we are still working, trying to go on as normal despite the chaos of juggling, stilt walkers and fire-eating clowns.
And I have a wee confession, I rarely bother to see anything at the Fringe. With travelling to Edinburgh every weekday for work, I find it hard to face making the journey on my day off too. But my friends have decided to go to the Festival this weekend to catch a few shows and enjoy a few wines and I’ve decided to go along.
I’m hoping a day of fun will solve my bad attitude to the Edinburgh Fringe.