Slightly late and not what I intended. Festival report.

During the Festival, Edinburgh is alive with people from all over the world taking in the sights and sounds of this fair city. Tourists, journalists, comedians, artists and performers can be seen in many of the coffee houses and pubs. The city bursts to life in a dazzling array of colors and sounds that would make a synesthesia sufferer think someone had spiked his lemonade with LSD.

This year saw a strange lack of the usual energy that drives Edinburgh for the month of August. The stream of people making their way around the city centre had lost its similarity to an insanely colored Chinese dragon and had dwindled to looking as though it is no more than an average sunny day in Edinburgh.

There were, of course, just as many shows on this year and the ubiquitous luvvies in garish costumes still gathered on the high street. Whether touting the latest innovative and daring adaptation of Frankenstein, or handing out flyers for shows, they were there. Bright shirts and bright smiles all round. Assorted freaks stepped and strutted as though Edinburgh itself was their stage. And in amongst it all was me, wandering around taking in all the sights and sounds.



City residents, as usual, took all this guff and nonsense in their stride. The local police made allowances, looking upon half naked women juggling fire on a unicycle, with no more than a cursory glance and a wry smile. Local drunks staggered, swayed, swanked and swept as though seeing people in 18th century clothing sword fighting outside the Tron Kirk was an everyday occurrence. Street performers took no prisoners when teenagers interrupted their show. Crowds laughed and children in prams stared in wide eyed wonder. Shoppers struggled and strained to get out of shop doors. A five piece orchestra played classical music on Princes Street. And people from all walks of life lay lounging in the sunshine in Princes Street Gardens.

Normally, during the festival, the bandstand in Princes street gardens is home to the best free show in town. A myriad of people sit and listen to music and songs beneath the castle. On a sunny day workmen, office workers, tourists and residents all dance to the same tune. This year, however, the Gardens seemed a bit quieter than usual. No music was playing at the bandstand. The gates were closed and padlocked. The stage bare and bereft.

In a moment of madness I decided that the Bandstand should be used by at least one performer. So I jumped over the gate and walked towards the stage. I strode up the steps and onto the stage like a seasoned performer and walked confidently towards front of house. I took a bow to the invisible audience and yelled at the top of my voice "Hello Edinburgh!"

I did a little dance and took another bow. I felt I should at least sing something so I took a deep breath and let loose in my best singing voice the chorus to Always look on the bright side of life by Monty Python. I took one last bow and jumped from the front of the stage to make my way back out of the padlocked enclosure. As I jumped back over the fence a voice called to me. I turned and saw that it was one of the Edinburgh City Council gardeners who was yelling at me.

"You were on camera the whole time you were up there. There's security cameras all over that place." He said. I asked him why the bandstand wasn't being used for the festival and he told me that the Council department in charge of it was asking for too much money for the festival to use it. This I found surprising, as the Bandstand is always packed at festival time and the opportunity to generate income was surely easier than falling off a log.

What surprised me more was when the Council gardener told me that the Council department responsible for the bandstand were attempting to charge too much to a different Council department. I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders and said goodbye to the gardener. I wandered along wondering how it was that one Council department could prevent another Council department from using Council Property.

The next day as I walked along Princes Street I looked into the gardens to see that the stage was in use. A band was playing and people were dancing along to the music. I searched amongst the crowd for the gardener I had seen the previous day to see if he knew why the bandstand was in use now but I didn't see him.

Perhaps, I thought, my act of climbing the fence had been a catalyst for other people to do likewise. Perhaps there had been some musicians show up and begin to climb the gates in comradeship with me and that the Council had been forced by the sway of public opinion to allow the show to go on. Then I thought that I was making too much of it and stopped thinking I somehow had started a musical revolution by climbing a fence and doing a little dance.

I walked from the gardens to the High Street and stopped to get my picture taken with two policemen whose powers of observation I decided to test.



As I stood having my picture taken, by my friend Steff, a tourist with a camera stood next to Steff and began taking pictures as well. Later, while walking to catch the bus home, Steff pointed out that technically I could say that I'd performed at the Edinburgh festival because of my stage show.

And I suppose he's correct. I can now say I've performed at the Edinburgh Festival. One day, I hope I'll be doing so again. And perhaps I'll have an audience...