I have arrived in Edinburgh. La de da. I am delighted that this year I have my own room. Privacy! Privacy to…er…blog. Last year I stayed in shared accommodation which although it encouraged me to talk to people (“Shuttup!”) there was some poo on the walls. And it wasn’t even mine! But this year, wow. It’s a tiny room. Not enough room to swing a swinger, but it’s space. It’s solitary aspect and plain walls makes me think that prison must be quite appealing after all. All I need is the late Ronnie Barker to be in a bunk above me, making jibes and impersonating Mr. Barroclough to make this the best Edinburgh of all. But then…oh no…I went into the shared kitchen to be sociable as I heard French voices talking and laughing enthusiastically you see. So I burst in, “Ah!! Bonjour!” And they looked at me with dismissive faces and walked out one by one. They hadn’t even finished unpacking their shopping! ‘Oh dear’, I’m thinking, oh…Mais Non!! They will need some persuading to see my show “Des Kapital: I’m Loving Engels instead” I thought.