list.co.uk/festival Ciarán Dowd | F E S T I VA L C O M E DY

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I D L S U K A N

‘It’s easy to forget that things like carrots exist’

Winner of the 2018 Edinburgh Comedy Award for Best Newcomer, Don Rodolfo gives his top tips for surviving the Fringe. Best read in a Spanish accent, albeit not a good one . . .

T he Edinburgh Festival is a magical place where dreams go to die and comedians go to have affairs. It’s the largest gathering of jesters, travelling players and circus freaks anywhere in the world. The closest we get to this sort of entertainment in my hometown is the annual Pig Tickling competition. You’re looking at a three-time winner right here.

For those unfamiliar with my legend, allow me to introduce myself: I am Don Rodolfo Martini Toyota, a slayer of men, a layer of women, a righter of wrongs, a writer of dogshit poems, a famous lothario, cad and libertine, known the world over for both having and being a spectacular bellend. The Fringe offers so much to see and do, ground-breaking theatre, dance, comedy and music, and always at least nine productions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, each one more eye-clawingly awful than the next. There’s something for everyone in Edinburgh in August: don’t forget about the Book Festival for nerds, the International Festival for snobs, and the TV Festival for parasites.

But if you’re here for any amount of time, it’s good to get away from the hustle and bustle of the Fringe; visit the beautiful Botanical Gardens, have a picnic or an orgy on top of Arthur’s Seat, dance naked in the moonlight on Portobello Beach. Beware the locals: the Scots are a barbaric race of godless heathens, and will leave you broke and destitute as they charge £3000 per week for a two-bed mud hut. But don’t let the price of accommodation put you off coming; sleep under the stars or in the stables with the horses or find yourself a beautiful wench and lay your head in their bosom for the night.

After you’ve been in Edinburgh for a few days it’s easy to forget that things like carrots exist or

that food can be eaten in places other than the side of the road. But they do and it can, so maybe eat a carrot in a house at least once.

If you’re not a performer but are feeling low and in need of an ego boost, take a walk down the Royal Mile to see all the young, beautiful, hopeful debasing themselves for your attention. Relish their misery and bask in the life choices you’ve made. Menial office work never seems so bad after this. performers

absolutely

People will tell you to explore the whole festival, don’t just see shows at the big four venues, see up-and-coming comedians you haven’t heard of. Don’t bother. There’s nothing worth seeing that isn’t on in the Pleasance Courtyard at 9.45pm and that isn’t being plugged in this article. Nobody leaves the Fringe the same person they arrived; you may leave a huge success, you may leave completely broke, you may leave in or out of love, you may leave with gout, you may leave with an unwanted pregnancy, you may leave with new friendships that will last a lifetime or old friendships that didn’t survive the bedshare.

What you do at the Fringe will echo through the ages; it’s where legends are born, where heroes are made and where STDs are becoming immune to antibiotics. But remember, whether you’re a patron or performer, you’re not doing the Edinburgh Festival right if you don’t need the entire 11 months before the next one to recover. (As told to his humble yet patient interlocutor, Ciarán Dowd)

Ciarán Dowd: Padre Rodolfo, Pleasance Courtyard, 3–25 Aug (not 14), 9.45pm, £9–£12 (£8–£11). Previews 31 Jul–2 Aug, £6.

31 Jul–7 Aug 2019 THE LIST FESTIVAL 51