Edinburgh Fringe: Tuesday 11th August, 2026

  

These were the first shows I booked for this year's Fringe. Elf Lyon's and Lara Ricote's shows were must-sees. The other two were calculated bankers.

Bob and I headed through at lunchtime, parking at Ingliston Park & Ride (eventually finding a parking bay at the furthest point from the tram station), then catching the tram to West End and walking over to the Underbelly at Cowgate. We bought drinks and sat in the bar until our first show was queuing. 

15.10 (1hr) Adam Riches: The Critic's Way. 

Cow Cafe at Underbelly, Cowgate. Ticket Price £15 (2 for 1) 

Blurb:

Wanna be a comedy reviewer? Think you have what it takes to sit in a dark room watching something on your own without falling asleep? Then come join Caliban Munroe, 'the single most influential critic of our times' (The Caliban Munroe Podcast), and best-selling author of industry bible, The Critic's Way, as he hosts his award-winning once-in-an-afternoon seminar on how to live your dream and crush everyone else's. NB: there will be no press tickets available for this show.

As we enter the Cow Cafe, I'm not exactly sure what to expect. The venue is a cafe, with small round tables and low stools. The bar is closed, and a folded copy of the Scotsman sits wedged upright against the beer taps. A stage has been erected against the long wall, and upon it sits a coffee table with an artist's illustration pad, a massive pencil, and a book. Outside is the main thoroughfare to and from the other performance spaces, so curtains are used to close off the space once we're all in. Bob and I sit at the back of the room in front of the long high table with the bulk of the audience between us and the stage. I feel safe, because the latecomers have rearranged the seats in front of us so they can sit together.

However, as if to prove me wrong,  Caliban is not a critic who remains on the stage. The East Coast Scotsman (think Alan Cumming with the gusto of Dominik Diamond) needs to get in amongst his attendees, engage with them, get them pumped up for his seminar on how to 'tique'. We chant back his catchphrases, make noises at his request and literally shake off our stress. One couple are asked to 'tique' each other. She gets a gold star on the forehead so he knows not to pick on her again. Another punter becomes a judge, Voice-style, sitting at the front facing Caliban, with instructions to turn around once he loses interest (the gag being once he turns around - and he does, to watch Caliban in the audience - he can't turn back and has to face the back wall for the rest of the show).

As all this is going on, Caliban drip-feeds us his backstory of being replaced at The Scotsman, a narrative which drives the show to its conclusion. 

I loved the exhilaration of this show. The script and performance were laugh-out-loud funny. A brilliant start to our day. I can see Adam bringing this character to Dictionary Corner on Cats Does Countdown.  

17:40 (1hr) Lara Ricote: INKLING.

Monkey Barrel 3. Ticket Price: £15 (2 for 1)

Blurb:

You know when stuff happens to you, and you react in a certain way (read: cry), so then you lean in? To know thyself? A man in a museum was mean to me (classic), and I’ve gotten a lot out of it (hell yeah). My stupidest and smartest show yet (alright!). INKLING is a show about How to Salute to the Mystery of Being Alive (ok?). Might that be of intrigue...? To you? Big kisses to you and yours. Love, Lara. PS I am trying my best. Edinburgh Best Newcomer winner 2022. As seen on TV.

The usher police insist we fill every seat, encouraging us to move to the end of the row, so, not willing to sit in the front row, I once again end up against the wall. I can't see the pictures on the stage hanging against the wall. 

There are three microphones, the middle one notably higher, with stools acting as a platform to reach it. 

Lara starts on these stools, shrieking in tongues with a scarf around her head. Blackout. She moves to another microphone and introduces the show, speaking quickly, almost unintelligibly, telling us about her deafness, how she hears about 65%. Blackout. She gabbers on about the philosophical aspects of life, using the framed mottos as examples of universal truths. Thankfully, she turns the frames so those of us at the sides can see them. Blackout. She talks about how she came out of a long-term relationship last year. Blackout. She plays out an encounter with a man in a museum, a Londoner she can barely understand. And so on, and so on.

Sounds a bit arty. It is, but it's also hilarious. Lara uses her clown skills to prick any pomposity in proceedings. The stage floor is soaking by the end of the show, as every mouthful of water she gulps never gets swallowed as she continues to talk at a million miles an hour, earnestly pleading with us to understand. Tears are represented by pouring water down her cheeks. 

I understood about 65% of what she said, and that was the point. If you have no Inkling about what the show is about from this review, that's on me, but that too is the point. You need to work it out for yourself, and go see it. But please, try to get a seat where you face the stage. 

The clean-up begins

19:30 (1hr) Ahir Shah: Golden.

Pleasance One. Ticket Price: £20 (2 for 1) 

Blurb:

Ahir Shah discusses love, money, family, responsibility, fear, forever and frogs. His last show, Ends, won the Edinburgh Comedy Award, toured to international acclaim and is streaming on Netflix. As seen on Live at the Apollo, Mock the Week, QI, that sort of thing. 'The most important stand-up of the year, if not decade’ (Stephen Armstrong). ***** (Guardian, Independent, Telegraph, Standard, Chortle.co.uk).

This show is a stand-up performance about becoming an adult, where Ahir sells every joke, every nuance, every thought in a well-practised manner, teasing out the details of how he became an adult, with all the stress and responsibility that comes with it. The joke rate is not high, and he almost oversells them. The underlying message, though, is powerful. The ending is delivered like a theatrical monologue. 

This show was something different. It felt like an Edinburgh show. I learned many things about Ahir's life that defied my expectations, to the show's benefit. It was deep, meaningful and started conversations post-gig about when life changes from being a child to becoming an adult and how we respond to that through our daily life. 

Comedy for thinking grown-ups.      

21.30 (1hr) Elf Lyons is The Woman on the Edge

Pleasance Beyond. Ticket Price: £18 (2 for 1) 

Blurb:

'I'm sorry, I've said too much...' Sky Arts Award-winning comedian Elf Lyons is The Woman on the Edge. A completely normal, autobiographical (and in no way complex) – observational stand-up show about love. A perfect show to take yourself to. Inspired by Vertigo, Apollo 13, the opera Pagliacci. Directed by Ingmar Bergman. One of The Telegraph's 50 Funniest Comedians of the 21st Century. 'Praise her genius – and go' ***** (Telegraph). 'Expert clowning' **** (Sunday Times). **** (Guardian).

At the end of Elf's last tour show, Horses, she previewed ideas for a very early work-in-progress about her breakup, her fiancee dumping her by WhatsApp weeks before their wedding. The Woman on the Edge is the show born from those ideas. She dropped all the stuff about her agent and getting on Taskmaster in favour of mining her soul. 

On social media, Elf takes great pains to remind reviewers that this is NOT a break-up show. Who am I to disagree? I mean, it is, but it's a whole lot more.  

Elf comes on stage in a blue dress with massive, frilly shoulder straps, walking about off-balance in high heels (only she's barefoot). She's smoking an imaginary cigarette, producing real smoke from her chest. As this overwrought 40s starlet character, she subverts the narrative, talks exposition on her banana (only it was the wrong banana), lip-syncs to pre-recorded sound bites from Apollo 13 and from the crowd member she plucked from the front row to narrate her scripted experiences. She makes allusions to Pagliacci, the old joke being that a man goes to the doctor feeling depressed. The doctor recommends he cheer himself up by going to see Pagliacci, the funniest clown in the world, who's playing in town that night. The man says, "I can't. I am Pagliacci." 

Sidebar: Glenn Moore had his own take on this. Pagliacci feels even worse because, if tickets are still available on the day, he hasn't sold out.

Over the course of the hour, we come to understand the turmoil Elf was in, still performing her tour show while her personal life imploded. She was oblivious to how much her support network of family and friends guided her back to safety. 

The show feels raw. When she's acting out the school dance, acquiescing to each partner who abandons her, I want to step in and look into her sparkly eyes to tell her, 'I see you, I hear you, I love you, and I'm here for you'. Obviously, other than in that moment, that wouldn't be true, but that was the feeling it brought out in me (that's a whole school dance can of worms inside my head, waiting to be carried to my grave).

Elf's show is an experience. It's funny, it's silly, it's technically amazing, and it's sad. An artist laid bare beneath the guise of a Fringe show. I hope she finds happiness. If it's any consolation, she says she's really good at anal.

And that was our day. I spotted Angelone Vittorio walking along the Cowgate. Rory Bremner was chatting to Matt Forde as they left Matt's venue (not sure if he was participating or watching). Ahir was drinking with friends in the bar after his show.

We didn't get home to Paisley till after1 am, despite the last show finishing at 10.30 pm. Between the time it took to shuffle out of the venue, then walk to the tram stop (diverting via McDonald's for a cheeky milkshake), then missing the tram by seconds, we didn't get back to Ingliston till midnight. 

It was worth it though. A great day, even if my dinner at the City Cafe was yuck.

Edinburgh Fringe, Thursday 14th August 2025: Elf Lyons, Kieran Hodgson, Adam Riches and John Kearns as Ball & Boe.

These were the shows I booked as soon as the programme was launched. I'll explain why below.

Our drive to Edinburgh was slightly strained as we'd left later than I'd hoped. The sat nav had us arriving at 7pm instead of closer to 6.30, so I was fretting over finding a street parking space. My wife kept nagging me about my speed and the likelihood of getting caught by the omnipresent traffic cops. Everything went fine, despite the traffic rerouting, until the sat nav was unaware that the Cowgate was closed to traffic. Cue an unexpected 180 at the roundabout, and a near collision as my eyes studied the screen map, failing to notice until the last second that the Audi in front had stopped at the pedestrian crossing. Fortunately, the only crunch was of my brakes and tyres. 

I navigated to a street parking spot on the south side near Just the Tonic. We had plenty of time before our first show, so we had drinks in the cafe beside the Pleasance Dome, remembering to use the facilities before joining the queue. Breath!    

Elf Lyons: "Raven" (2 x £15) 20.00 at the King Dome Pleasance Dome

I originally had tickets for this show at The Stand, Glasgow, when it toured, but I caught Covid and had to ask for a refund (for Jordan Brookes, too, it turned out). Billed as a Horror show, I expected creepy clown vibes, with Elf patrolling the audience, providing jump scares and invading personal space. 

It's not that at all. It's a scream, but the kind of scream from a hysterical person who's just experienced a horrific trauma. And I don't mean seeing a ghost.  

Elf talks us through her childhood, using her ickle voice, reminding us she's nine when she thinks we're perving at her libidinous movements. She was educated at home; her mother showed her horror films; she devoured Stephen King books. When she stayed with an uncle, they always watched The Thirty-Nine Steps, until one day he put on Kevin Bacon's The Hollow Man, about a scientist who turned himself invisible, went mad, and attacked women. Then her nightmares about monsters really began.

At ten, she was sent to boarding school. During the holidays, if she wasn't going home to her parents, she'd be alone in her dorm. The lights along the long corridor to the bathroom worked on sensors, but didn't always register her presence. The long walk terrified her. Especially the night when she discovered a male stranger standing at the other end with no one around to save her.

She acts out the show in five scenes. For the final one, she lays herself bare, physically and emotionally, destroying fruit to the pounding beat of The Prodigy's Firestarter, spotlights blasting, screaming her revelation at us. The front row needs a splash guard tarpaulin as she sprays them with tomatoes, chewed banana, and smashes up a watermelon, both with a mallet and her fists. Powerful stuff.

She sings her epilogue, the words too painful to speak. Raw, emotional and brave. Whether it's theatre or comedy is irrelevant. It's art, born out of trauma, and quite an experience. Wow!  

(Star spotting one: Stuart Goldsmith, of the Comedian's Comedian podcast, was sitting in the front row of this show.)

Kieran Hodgson: Voice of America (2 x £18) 21.30 Beyond at Pleasance Courtyard

Elf's show committed a cardinal Fringe sin: it overran, so we had less than fifteen minutes, instead of thirty, to get from the Pleasance Dome to the Pleasance Courtyard to attend Kieran Hogson's new show. The audience had already gone in by the time we arrived, but we managed to find aisle seats in the side seating area. 

This show is about his big break in Hollywood, starring as 'Sandwich Man' in the DC superhero movie, The Flash. His big scene (and only scene) is at the opening of the film. After one day, his agent, Sabrina, calls to say the producers are not happy with his performance.  They don't believe in his authenticity as an American. And so starts much soul searching about what it means to be an American, delving into Kieran's childhood, his schooldays, and later developing his talents as an actor, who's especially good at impressions and accents. What is an American voice? 

The show's storytelling has a gentle humour, and it's well-written and performed. The theme: America has always been about power, despite the historical rhetoric. The subtext is painted large at the end as one character takes over the show, dominating proceedings. You can probably guess who. 

We shuffle out to the strains of American Idiot by Green Day. 

The only things that niggled me were the noise chatter from the courtyard bleeding through the wall behind us - it occasionally distracted me from the narrative - and the seating angle became uncomfortable, making it difficult to sit straight to view the performance.   

(Star spotting two: I spot Hal Cruttenden in the Courtyard chatting with some fans after his show)

Adam Riches and John Kearns are Ball & Boe (2 x £21) 23.00 Grand at Pleasance Courtyard

It takes longer than expected to exit Kieran's show, so again, we have less time than planned to race around the corner to the Pleasance Grand for this performance.  We end up at the back of the queue, the staff diverting attendees behind us to the second entrance. I'm stressed out of my box, thinking we're going to end up stuck at the back or worse, the backside. Arse!

After having had our QR codes scanned, we're given a token to hand back upon entry. We make our way after a short wait and hear the strains of Michael Buble's Christmas (Baby Please Come Home), followed by Winter Wonderland. This show was initially staged at the Soho Theatre last Christmas, so I guessed they hadn't updated the setting. 

There are empty seats near the front at the side, so I claim them, then spot two aisle seats close by in the middle. I curse myself for taking the first ones available, then sigh with relief as I discover they were already being kept for someone. The large lady beside me shifts over one seat. I try not to take it personally.

The likes of David O'Doherty and Nish Kumar (sporting a massive backpack, not at all looking like a suicide bomber) pass us, heading up to the back. There might have been other, less well-known celebs I didn't recognise (Celya AB?), because this show has a buzz about it. Three Nights Only - this is a Fringe Event!

It would be fitting to describe it as This is the Greatest Show, as not only is that the opening number, John Kearns (as Alfie Boe) appearing from the wings and Adam Riches (as Michael Ball) starting at the top of the stairs at the back of the room, both belting out the Hugh Jackman classic, it's also repeated a number of times to increasing comic effect.

I had tears of laughter running down my face during the show. It is so funny! The performances are exquisite, suitably cheesy for Ball and morosely straight for Boe. The twinkle in their eyes during the repartee almost brings them to corpse, but they both remain committed to their parts, playing it straight within character, making it all the more funny. 

It's not just them singing. There is a plot of sorts - this is the warm-up to a planned tour, but Michael's agent has agreed to a sponsorship deal that conflicts with Boe's intended tour theme. Will their double act survive in light of these revelations, especially as the new script cuts the new, original song that Boe has written (much humour is derived from the fact that they only sing covers)? 

I can't recommend this highly enough. If you managed to get a ticket to this show (it's long sold out), you are in for the night of your life. It truly is the Greatest Show!   

Don't phone the police:
I photographed this poster in the Pleasance Dome's Gents' toilet.

Elf Lyons "Horses" The Stand, Glasgow. Saturday 7th June, 2025.

I first saw this show at last year's Edinburgh Fringe. It blew me away - the best show I'd seen at the festival. When the tour was announced, I couldn't make the Scottish dates because I was already booked elsewhere: Jarlath on Friday and Billy Joel on Saturday. Then, Billy Joel rescheduled (and later cancelled) his date, which freed me up to attend.

As it was an afternoon performance, with doors opening at 3 pm and the show starting at 4 pm, running until 5:40 pm, I decided to drive to Ibrox and catch the subway to Kelvinbridge. I didn't have to collect anyone as my mate was busy and was going to make his own way there. The tube got busy when a hen group dressed as cowgirls (and boys) flooded in, on a pub crawl, stopping off at every station. They had tiny bottles of pink liquid, which they downed like shots. Their loud presence amused my fellow travellers, but I felt relieved when they got off. 

Isn't this a thing of black beauty?

I arrived at the venue so early that they hadn't even put out the chalk advertising board. There was no queue, just one other bloke leaning against a wall. The door at the foot of the stairs was open, so I went down to peek in, catching a glimpse of Elf walking away in costume, but it was apparent the audience hadn't gone in early. The table for checking off the ticket holders had been moved to the other end of the corridor.

I headed back upstairs.

A young couple arrived and saw the pair of us standing, and still decided to head down. They disappeared inside, so I figured they were staff. Only they weren't. They came back out laughing, checking their watches, and then disappeared off to the pub. (They returned closer to showtime, by which time only a few tables remained. They ended up sitting beside the wall at the side of the stage.) 

I ended up third in the queue when two ladies arrived and decided to stand at the top of the stairs. The other bloke, who had arrived much earlier than I had, didn't seem interested in joining us, remaining at the wall.  

At 3 pm, the door was opened, the doorstop put in place, and we were allowed in.

The room layout had been altered from its usual configuration. There were far fewer tables, with spacing between to create a corridor around the stage. I clicked on the reason, remembering the show's finale. However, it also suggested the show hadn't sold out. The staff had done a great job of making it look full.

I still have no idea what the letters perched on the floor were for

I spotted a staff member taking down Elf's posters, removing the dollops of blue tack from the corners, so I approached him, asking if I could have one. He said no problem, even going to the length of finding me an elastic band to secure it. We then chatted about when they were due to move to the new venue. He told me it would probably be in September: the room needs some work, including adjusting the stage height and building a false ceiling to keep the laughs in. I don't usually have the confidence to talk to strangers, but I felt comfortable as it was The Stand, my favourite comedy venue.  

When Bob arrived, I'd already got the drinks in. We chatted about whether to attend a gig later that night at the Classic Grand - his mate couldn't go and had offered him free tickets - and decided we would. I'd never heard of Electric Boys, nor The Spangles, but it was free, so why not?

I'd seen Susan Riddell earlier outside and wondered if she'd been asked to open for Elf. In my head, this didn't make sense. The nature of the performance required Elf to open the show. It turned out I was right. Susan was there as a punter, sitting a few seats away from me at a Reserved table - the perks of being a comedian.

   

The show itself was superb, even on second viewing. I laughed out loud so much it put Jarlath's show to shame. So many moments to remember: the audience's enthusiatic involvement in the scene with the Trojan Horse; audience member Marion panicking, waving her hands in the air, as her invisible gun kept shooting Elf; Elf's performance as Medusa, Pegasus, and the Minotaur; the scene with the sweet girl riding Chubby ending up down the well. Elf's physicality is impressive, but her script is so good, packed with funny lines.

 

Afterwards, she treated us to a second half, a spot of stand-up as a preview of sorts for her next work in progress. She admitted she hadn't yet worked out how to link the bits, but we went with it. It's going to be a corker. Maybe it'll get her on Taskmaster and keep her agent happy. 

At the rock show afterwards, my brain kept distracting me with ideas for Elf's new show. I ended up jotting them down on my phone. When another punter approached me and asked if I was a reviewer, I stopped and put my phone away. I missed a lot of the gig. 

When I got home, I emailed Elf my ideas. I'm not expecting a reply, unless it's an injunction order, preventing me from contacting her further. For a short time, though, while still elated by her show, I could dream of collaborating with her. Wouldn't that be nice!

The weeds have formed a wreath outside The Stand.
It's the end of an era.
In just a few months, the lease will expire, and they will be forced to move.
(The comedy club, not the weeds - I imagine they'll flourish).

Ticket Price: 2 x £15 plus £1.60 booking fee = £31.60 from The Stand

Poster now framed.

Edinburgh Fringe: Trip One - Melanie Bracewell, Jin Hao Li & Elf Lyons. Monday 5th August, 2024

Our first trip to this year's Edinburgh Fringe was nearly derailed by industrial action. Our train would have brought us back to Glasgow, but because of the revised timetable, we would have missed the last one back to Johnstone. So, plan B involved a drive to the Ingleston Park and Ride and then taking the tram into the city. This was the cheapest option (other than risking a parking ticket). 

As we left Paisley, the weather was wet and drizzly, and it only got wetter. The sat nav took us to Silverburn to join the M74 and then bypassed the M8, continuing on until we reached the M73, only later joining the M8. By then, the surface water was horrendous, and every flare of brake lights in front of me triggered a pedal slam from me, too, because I couldn't see what lay beyond. Eventually, the rain thinned, and the clouds lightened, so by the time we reached the Park and Ride, it was dry. And warm. Seriously warm. I had three layers on, two of which were unnecessary. We bought the tram tickets at the machine (the kiosk closed at 3.30pm, though the assistant was still sitting there scrolling on her phone). 

The tram trip was way more relaxing than the drive. However, travelling on a 'train on the road' did feel a bit weird, passing shops and pedestrians instead of railway embarkments and the backs of buildings. We got off at St Andrew's Square and made our way to the Pleasance, the venue for all of today's shows.

Apart from the unexpected heat, the first thing that struck me was the number of names on the show listing boards that I'd never heard of. I used to think I was quite comedy-savvy, but I had no clue who most of these people were. It also felt quieter, but then I remembered it was Monday. 

The benches in the Courtyard are a good place to people-watch. We noticed Alan Davies, Nina Conti, and Chloe Petts passing by. I also noticed that the number of young women not wearing bras seems to have shot up since I was a young lad. This is a fashion statement I applaud, but I didn't know where to look. So perhaps I missed other celebrities wandering by as I distracted myself on my phone, trying to avoid a dirty look or slap (from them and my wife). 

Melanie Bracewell - Attack of the Melanie Bracewell
17.50 Baby Grand, Pleasance Courtyard 

The first show we took was at the Baby Grand. This venue is located in an alley outside the courtyard, accessed further down the road. It's essentially a very hot container box with power, seats, and lighting.  Earlier that day, I'd received an email from Fringe Customer Services warning me that the show description for Melanie Bracewell's "Attack of the Melanie Bracewell" had changed, now including 'Swearing, Adult Content and Mild Audience Participation'. 

Melanie is a story-telling comedian from New Zealand (friends with Urzilla Carlson, it turns out, as she made a couple of guest appearances on video). This show's story is about Melanie's need to recover her missing earpods, which she believes have been stolen. As you'd expect from any hour-long show, it's not a simple tale, with lots of twists and turns. The humour is likeable, with most of the craft coming from the structure rather than the wordplay. 

It was okay. A pleasant appetizer.

Ticket Price: £12 (2for1)

Jin Hao Li - Swimming in a Submarine
19.10 Below, Pleasance Courtyard.

This is Jin Hao Li's debut hour at Edinburgh. He's Chinese-born, Singapore-raised, and educated at St Andrews (or Standrews, as he called it). He first came to my attention at the BBC New Comedy Awards in 2023. I loved his softly spoken wordplay, creatively using pauses for misdirection. His surreal vision was engaging. I had high expectations for this show.   

Which, unfortunately, it didn't meet. 

It still felt like a work in progress. It was good, but some bits missed the mark. A good director could shape this into something better, as the writing is brilliant, and his audience control is fantastic. He can still save it, but for me, it didn't quite hit the top marks I was expecting.

He did make my wife jump, though, during his bit about ghosts. That was a first. I used to think she lacked an autonomic nervous system as she never falls for any jump scares in the movies, whereas I always do.

Ticket Price: £12 (2for1) 

Elf Lyons - Horses
21.20, Above, Pleasance Courtyard
2for1 £15

Elf Lyons is a performer I've wanted to see in person for a long time. I had tickets for her Raven show at the Glasgow Stand but contracted Covid and had to cancel. I had no foreknowledge about this year's show, Horses, except the title and that it was "highly regarded". 

When the time came to enter the venue, she greeted us at the theatre door. She was tall, barefoot, wearing a leotard and a colourful, diamond-shaped waistcoat. She had grease paint on her upper face and forehead and lipstick reminiscent of a mime. She looked clownish, and that was the point. She was setting a tone.

The show itself is magnificent. She told us from the off that she was going to bring a horse onto the stage, and she did - in our minds. She is a fantastic performer, using movement to build and create her imaginary worlds. She engages us with playful but safe audience interaction. The subject matter can go quite dark (I've never felt an audience feel so nervous about an imaginary old horse facing an imaginary farmer's imaginary gun). She's also clever in the way she subverts the form, throwing out funnies like a muck spreader. Between scenes, she mimes the words playing on a backing track, involving conversations with her family members, which lays the foundation for the show's underlying theme. 

The whole show ties up beautifully at the end, and the message (SPOILER!): it's okay to play, even if we forgot how to when we grew up. We can all still be horses, just like some of the bolder audience members at the end—beautiful, pert young colts and fillies who gently cantered about the stage unbridled. (Yeah, sorry, I should have looked away). 

 

The trip home was horrendous, with multiple M8 closures at locations I'd never driven through before. Having to get the tram back to the car didn't help either, so we didn't reach home until 12:40 a.m. It was worth it, though, just to catch 'Horses'. 

All tickets were purchased from EdFringe.com. The booking fee was capped at £5.

She looks exactly the same in person

Addendum: Elf Lyons wins two awards: The Comedians Choice Award 2024   and the ISH Edinburgh Comedy Award 2024