by Jay Richardson

John Cleese recurs throughout Michael Palin's amiable Travelling To Work show as the jaded voice of cynicism. Monty Python used to write each other's profiles rather than leave it to publicists and Cleese delivered Palin's for Life of Brian, memorably complaining that 'Yap, yap, yap' went his friend, 'all day long and all through the night … and then, when everyone else has gone to bed, he writes a diary.'

This, and many other warm anecdotes are fondly recalled in this first solo tour from the man typically characterised as the 'nicest' Python. Certainly, Palin is the one you'd most enjoy travelling the globe with, as the BBC wisely concluded. At least after Alan Whicker had passed on Around The World In 80 Days. And Noel Edmonds too, as the fourth-choice presenter ruefully reflects ...

With this tour timed to coincide with the publication of Palin's third volume of diaries, Cleese's description invites the question of what he has to add to the reams of personal insight he's already shared on the printed page, alongside the many hours of travelogues and Python documentaries, especially in the wake of the group's recent reunion at London's O2 Arena.

The answer is, truthfully, not a great deal that hasn't been divulged already. But when you're as engaging as the still spry 71-year-old, who's packed so much into a lengthy and varied career, it would be churlish to quibble about such a good-natured summary of the highlights.

The show is split into two halves, the first focusing on a quarter century making travel programmes, the second on his comedy career. Introducing himself as the third comedian to arrive in Scotland in this 'momentous' week for the nation, following Nick Clegg and Ed Miliband, he promises '25 years of holiday snaps!' And duly delivers.

There are some remarkable shots in the slide presentation that follows, eschewing chronological order and with no overarching theme save for few cursory titles such as 'Unexpected Sights' and 'The People You Meet'. The arresting sights of hundreds crammed onto trains, a Dutch cycling band in Japan and young Turkish wrestlers glistening in olive oil – it all establishes a rich kaleidoscope of a beautifully diverse world, making you instantly want to rush to the nearest airport.

Palin accompanies these pictures with enthusiastic or wry evocation of the moments they relate to, with an occasional lament for those areas transfigured or unreachable now because of conflict. In such instances, he conveys an awareness of the privilege he's been offered to satiate his wanderlust.

Happily, the resourcefulness and indomitability of humanity shines through in the images of shepherds hitching a ride for their flocks on iron ore trains through Mauritania, or the staggeringly impressive mud mosque of Djenna in Mali, which must be rebuilt annually by the entire community.

Rather wonderfully, Python has followed Palin to the ends of the earth too, ensuring he's familiar to Danish soldiers and remote Inuit tribes alike, and can match an unlikely Bhutan pop star with The Lumberjack Song. Best of all, though, is his reminisce about a group of colourfully attired monks, which prompts him to dust off and share the script to the Pythons' timeless hermit sketch.

As promised, the second half concentrates on the comedy, beginning in intimate detail with the mischievous circumstances of his conception and acknowledging the impact of The Goons on his adolescent imagination. Their influence upon the The Knights who say Ni is obvious, but delightfully, he also shares the inspiration of his school days on the Holy Grail's most inexplicable characters, as well as the misdemeanour that inspired a classic scene from Tomkinson's Schooldays in Ripping Yarns.

A few school reports and extracts from a 1955 diary wouldn't merit inclusion if they weren't original material, even if the latter reveals how far he's subsequently come as a diarist. Regardless, he also unveils some endearing, previously unseen Super-8 footage of him, Cleese and Jones larking around at Blenheim Palace while touring cabaret shows between Python series.

Pre-Python output such as Do No Adjust Your Set and The Complete and Utter History of Britain is wisely skated over in brief detail, as the main amusement derives from Palin's storytelling of his career rather than the logistics. Indignantly frothing as Terry Jones reacts to BBC censorship, he also reads from a particularly drunken episode of Graham Chapman's A Liar's Autobiography.

With so much to cram in, he's clearly made some concessions to pleasing himself and a disproportionate amount of time is given over to his and Jones' spoof educational tome Dr Fegg's Encyclopaedia of All World Knowledge - though justifiably so with regard to its hilarious rules for Bengal tiger related parlour games.

A rather rushed question and answer session, drawing pre-prepared enquires from a bucket and rejecting most out of hand, or generally only answering them in the most throwaway manner, is an unsatisfying section that ought either to be ditched or entered into properly, with real back and forth engagement.

Yet while there's nothing too surprising or ambitious about what is, after all, a glorified book plug, you can't deny that Palin has a treasure trove of winning tales to draw upon. And that two hours in his company remains an undemanding pleasure.

Review date: 17 Sep 2014
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson
Reviewed at: Edinburgh Kings Theatre