Mum then asked how things were going. This is a mistake to ask any comedian in the midst of a comedy festival, even if they give the illusion of normalcy and good cheer. I started by telling her I was generally having fun and enjoying the show. Twenty minutes later I was winding up a diatribe on the unfairness of life. Never, ever attempt to console a festival stand-up comic - a drink and a knowing nod will normally suffice.

"Is it this alleyway, Janet?" I asked, looking down the narrow lane at the discarded boxes and untethered fire escape, swinging loosely from the towering wall. Janet responded bluntly, "No, that's far too fancy. Not enough bins."

We got to peruse their stocks outside of office hours, have a go on a fork-lift truck, then press the buttons on their giant 'sheet-rolling machine'. It was terrifying and more than a little bit tantalising. Dangerous machines are kind of hot.

… wouldn’t it be ace if we could all just cancel the Festival and sit on a pier with a bottle of wine? It feels churlish to spend every single afternoon & eve warbling away in the sunken basement theatres & dark crevices of this beautiful city. March/April is always a lovely time of year here [...]

I feel like I'm emerging from the wilderness. And if I'm honest with you, The Internet, I've been burrowed away, hidden from the world until now.