My alarm goes of at eight and I wake with a dim memory that my flight is at 2pm, not at noon. I go to reception and check online.

Yes, I’ve gotten up early for no reason. I go and have breakfast then go back to bed.

After checking out, I walk to Waverley Bridge, taking a nostalgic stroll by The Counting House where we did 3D Comedy, Fringe Central where I typed lots of diary entries, The Gilded Balloon where I ate a hot dog, Downstairs at the Tron where I saw Nick Helm’s Show. Ah. Those were the days. Remember them? Those far off, magical days. From earlier in the week.

Sigh.

This is the third time I’ve been to the Edinburgh Festival. The first year I arrived for the last week of the festival and everyone was tired and wanted to go home. The second year I arrived for the first week and everyone was very chirpy and there was a sense of excitement as everything started up. This year I’ve been here for the second week and it was okay. It did seem like the transition from between the two.

This means that I have done one whole Edinburgh Festival over three years.

I get on the bus to the airport.

Now, I know a lot of you are probably thinking, “Never mind this shit! What about the new Metallica album? Is it any good or what?”

Well, I think that’s a very pertinent question. I put in my headphones and watch Edinburgh scrolling past me.

And I would say, yes, actually, I’ve been listening to Death Magnetic a lot and it’s not bad at all. They are definitely trying to reach back to do something like And Justice For All… or Master of Puppets. The sleeve design is knowingly simplistic. The old Metallica logo is back. Kirk Hammet’s been allowed to do guitar solos again. And the songs are actually coherent and have riffs that go “Dugga-duggga-dugga DUN DUN DUN!” or similar rather than being a mish-mash of different ideas and songs like on St. Anger.

I’d give it four stars.

At the airport I check in and queue up to get through security. It takes longer on the way through Edinburgh Airport than it took coming from Gatwick.

Eventually, I get on the plane, and after we take off and Edinburgh has receded beneath the clouds, I realise that it is at last, finally, over.

I take out my notebook and write down the hand dryer bit I thought of. When will I get to try it out? When’s my next gig?

THE END