Outside The Stand Comedy Club on Edinburgh’s York Place, Elaine Robertson, a young English comedian, is telling me about her Fringe experience. Inside the venue, a small vestibulum has been converted into her theatre space. Twice each day for the past three weeks, she’s polished and shaped her act, undeterred by the sparse numbers.
She’s from County Durham. Jimmy Carr once said that the Glasgow accent lends itself to comedy more than any other. If that’s true then English Northernism must come a close second.
She’s camping at a caravan park on the outskirts of Edinburgh and in these moments I desire nothing more than that she succeeds in the entertainment sector’s loneliest and most unforgiving craft. I needn’t worry, though. Her reviews have been good and she’s just won a Fringe award that comes with a £1000 prize.
“I’m loving it, and the caravan park isn’t bad. I’ve only been washed out once,” she tells me. She’s also been approached by a television executive and I make a mental note to watch her career blossom.
This snapshot of life on the road for emerging comedians rather settles my own rising panic at making my Fringe debut. In about 20 minutes, I’m appearing ‘In Conversation’ with Graham Spiers at a room in the same venue. Here, I must declare ‘an interest’.
Mr Spiers has been my friend and former colleague of more than 30 years. He’s been conducting these Fringe conversations with notable figures from politics and the media for.