retiredmartin

July 2025. Edinburgh.

Yes, Edinburgh. A second Scottish tickathon in a month.

This would normally have been a prohibitively expensive trip,

but by the mere act of being old, fixing train times and also starting at 6am from a car park halfway up the A1 in Darlington, I got the cost down significantly.

Just imagine how much further I could get that price if I started the journey in Edinburgh.

6:25am is no sort of time to be standing outside Darlington’s Work-in-Progress station, wondering if we’ll get drinkable coffee (just about),

before a particularly comfy 2 hour journey.

We arrive in the festival city two days before the festival, a great day to visit for the tourist more interested in culture than comedy.

I swear those acts put more effort into coming up with puns for their shows than the jokes these days.

2025 Joke of the Fest “I had to visit the trauma unit last weekend. He prefers the term dad.” Uh ?

I prefer Rob Auton, who’s my comedy pick at End of the Road later this month.

Looks like there’s some promising poetry on display this year as well.

“Robert Burns” ? You’ll never hear of him again.

Mrs RM decided she wasn’t going to be bullied into pubs by her evil husband, oh no, and set off on a tour of Instagram selfie sites.

I headed to the Spoons.

No, not that one, though the Dome (Tennents £6.25) looks like it could be, and the Standing Order is almost as grand.

I always assume I must have been in all the Scottish Spoons by now, but it’s easy to mix up your Booking Offices with your Standing Orders and Counting Houses and Kirky Puffers.

A sad lack of 9:20am lager trade, but an easy choice to start a long, long day in 26 degrees.

A quid for your half of rather ropey 80/. Could have had a pint for £1.49. Never learn.