Steve Bugeja  is at the Edinburgh Fringe performing his show Shiny at Monkey Barrel at The Iron at 1.35pm.  Here he shares what he can't get enough of at the festival, his most embarrassing Edinburgh experience and the worst thing about the Fringe. Apart from the cost of accommodation, obviously…

Edinburgh binge

This year, I’m going to embrace honesty. Every year I bump into friends and promise that I’ll come along to their show, with genuinely good intentions. After doing six Fringe solo hours I have finally learnt that while it would be nice to see their shows, I just won’t. 

Despite being free for 23 hours of the day, and having 26 possible show days to do it, I will fail to walk the three minutes it takes to get to your venue.

A mixture of anxiety in the first week, procrastination in the second and sheer tiredness in the third will make me incapable. 

So this year I’m going to binge being honest. No I won’t come to your show. I’m sorry.  

Edinburgh cringe

During my first ever Fringe, I made the rookie error of developing a huge crush on a fellow performer. Sadly (but unsurprisingly) it was not reciprocated, and instead she had a Fringe fling with an American musician!  

One morning I was walking near the Meadows and I spotted them having a romantic brunch together on tables outside a cafe. I was desperate for them not to notice me to save the inevitable awkward chat, so I kept my head down and briskly crossed the road away from them. 

Forgetting I was wearing headphones, I failed to hear a car loudly beeping me as I stepped out into the road, the car slammed on its brakes and at a snail’s pace made contact with me, knocking me on to the tarmac. 

So, in an attempt to not be seen, I had inadvertently been loudly run over, and in the process drawn maximum attention to myself from everyone eating at the cafe, including them. She still regularly mentions it.

Edinburgh whinge

Every year I convince myself that I’m going to make great progress on other creative projects in the spare time I have before shows. Each year I arrive with a sitcom script that needs rewriting, or a proposal that needs punching up, and every year I will fail to even open the file.  

I do not learn, and every July I give myself fresh hope that this time it will be different. Very similar to supporting England in an international tournament. But this year IS different, and I can’t wait to get to work on my fantasy novel.