We asked some of the comedians performing at the Edinburgh Festival what they are looking forward to most about the 2018 festival. Here's what they said. Click on their names to find out about their shows.
Stanley Brooks: Seeing my face on massive billboards around the city. There's something about a massive picture of yourself that makes you feel really good. I reckon it's how handsome I am.
The first hangover. A fringe hangover is like no other. Normally if I'm hungover, I get to spend the whole day crying in my underwear, eating ham from the packet. At the Fringe, there's always something to do... and that's when you find out who you really are.
Crying into the empty 25 seat room at midday, regretting having agreed to an 'early' slot. Only to be rudely interrupted by a family of four who have children too young to see my show.
An escape from the uncharacteristic scathing sunshine England has had. Who knew?
The eruption of Arthurs Seat. It's been a long time coming, and I thnk it will make a great "closer" to the festival. The firework show has been sorely lacking in recent years. Engage the volcano Edinburgh council - shame on you!
Obviously performing every day is great and all, but the main thing I love about Edinburgh is how it smells of Weetabix. All the time. Apparently it's because they're constantly brewing beer, which I assumes means beer is as healthy as Weetabix so come September I'll be in great shape.
Losing my voice on day three. My voice is something of a prima donna, and gives up fast. I once asked an opera singer to help me and after touching my neck, making me say 'aah' and pushing on my diapragm, I was told that he couldn't anything for this (pointing to my neck) until I sorted out this (pointing to my head and heart). Deep.
I'm excited by the possibility that I might have a run of my show without an audience member throwing up in the venue. Last year, someone puked all over the steps on the way out, though at least they managed to hold it until the end. In 2016, a drunken punter vomited under their seat and didn't tell anyone, so the smell gradually spread throughout his section. Walkouts ensued, and I, none-the-wiser about the reason for them, thought that year's material about post-its and cliff face erosion had hit a particularly raw nerve.
Announcing 'I'm doing yoga every day and eating healthily and not drinking and there literally won't be any crying because I'll be using my meditation app every morning'. And then my friends looking at me blankly and handing me a glass of wine and a tissue to wipe my tears with. It's a ritual.
The intellectual exercise that is trying to persuade people to take my flyers:
"Excuse me, Sir, would you like to see a show about sexual dysfunction?"
...head down, walks on by...
"Sir?....Sir?...I can teach you how to make your willy stronger for longer"
...dodges behind a tourist, sprints off...
I am most looking forward to successfully maintaining a healthy well being. I certainly won't lose all sense of perspective and I absolutely cannot wait to be oh so gracious when other people's shows achieve more success.
The food. About June each year I get a craving for haggis, neeps and whiskey sauce - and about 5 of my favourite eateries are in that city. When I win the lottery I'll fly up once a month for lunch! I'm half-Scottish, and I think my stomach knows it.
The money. After some cunning planning and detailed number crunching I stand to earn some serious, serious money out of this. I'll be straight to the bank to pick a nice shiny ISA off the shelf with my money.
CREPES! CREPES CREPES AND MORE CREPES. Also to see if my usual pre-show toilet is available this year.
Drinking pint-ized beers! I don't have those in Spain... The 'caña' size overthere (20cl) is ridiculous. Also looking forward to hanging out with the taxi drivers, I love that scottish accent. They are probably the only ones in the U.K that can roll their R's. And they roll them very intensely, just how I like it.
The millions and millions of pounds I'm expecting to collect in my bucket! Otherwise the millions of pounds of Scottish cheese I'm likely to eat!
Dreaming about being nominated for 'best newcomer' and then waking up to discover that what had started as a normal dream at some point turned into a 'nocturnal emission'. Google it.
Coming up with creative compliments for a cousin's hairdresser's nephew's dentist's spoken word interpretative dance show. 'You know what, I'll never see something like that again.'
I hate the optimism and enthusiasm of performers, so I'm most looking forward to the second week when they're broken and crying into a fucking bin.
The slapping sound of massive seagull feet on wet Scottish concrete.
Racking up an enormous amount of debt whilst handing out A6 pieces of paper to strangers and living off chips and cheap continental lager, constantly complaining to my flatmates about how unfair the comedy industry is.
Getting banned from the Pleasance Courtyard on the last night of the festival. Again.
Eating pad thai for breakfast. I'm away for a month! Sod decorum, goodbye to normal life, I can do what I want! If I want delicious flat noodles before 12pm there's absolutely NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME.
Bumping into other comedians and seeing their pitying head tilts because they've read reviews of my show.
I'm looking forward to finding the perfect one night stand. You know, where our eyes meet across the swarms of sweaty theatre goers, and we find ourselves at a martini bar, licking olives and raising eyebrows. And after a night of wanton sex, the person will offer to flyer for me for free for the rest of the festival. Taking applications.
Having my children with me at the Fringe; you have the perfect excuse to not take a flyer. "Sorry mate, I am really interested in your one-man version of Macbeth In Space, but I'm a bit busy holding onto my own future..."
Sleeping alone. Our flat has a second bedroom and I plan to argue with my husband on the train so I can have the entire bed.
The thing I'm MOST looking forward to that does not involve any stress whatsoever*, is eating the grilled cheese sandwiches from The Cheesy Toast Shack van in George Square. All those delicious calories evaporate with all the running around between gigs and the stress of being on stage looking out at people who are not laughing. It is the ONLY time in my life when I can eat this stature of grilled cheese and feel like its doing me good.
(*The thing I'm MOST looking forward to which involves quite a bit of stress: my show).
Last year we tweeted Sainbury's about how their green juices keep us alive at the Fringe and they sent us a month's supply. This year we're going to tweet them about cashback.
I believe because it's my 25th *consecutive* Edinburgh Fringe, at all of which I performed comedy for money (street, sketch or stand-up), this is the year I become the "New King of Edinburgh", snatching the title from Richard Herring, the previous monarch and my podcasting arch-nemesis.
Answered by the character Chloe: I am hoping to be in the background of a lot of Instagram photos of B-list comedians. It's an ambition I've held for a long time, so this summer I've gone all out, and invested in a sombrero and a colourful anorak, so I can spot myself in any crowd shots. I'm not actually involved in a Fringe show - I just really want to be in the photos.