We’re all flopped on some relatively hard sofas in a flat forty minutes out from the centre of Edinburgh – a walk we all undertake diligently at least twice a day. We’re knackered, but very grateful for the chance to have one of our “pasta parties,” a late night dinner session that ceremonially ends a day full of performing and watching shows. Despite our tiredness, the excitement of life on tour hasn’t worn off.

“It’s been a privilege. It’s been a joy. I’m a lucky boy,” says Miles Hitchens, one of the cast members of our show, and a promising rhymer. He adds that: “not without unexpected challenges… it’s really intense and it can be emotional.” Abi Kramer agrees: “it’s the coolest thing in the world … all the highs and lows are part of the beauty.” At the time of writing, we are almost exactly halfway through Fringe and completely loving it. However, one love in particular seems to stick out for the cast: sharing a flat. We’re very lucky to have a big communal dining area, and in the evenings we all sit around and watch One Day. One Day is a particularly controversial TV show in this flat. Pioneering masterpiece or not, we are all still actively rooting against both main characters, which has absolutely nothing to do with the unfortunate fate of the show’s one comedian character.

“The likability of a comedian’s persona, we have come to learn, is essential”

We agree that the shared space is lovely, and, with people coming in and out, it offers a good place to brainstorm. Jenny Jones points out: “if we want to do a little rehearsal last minute, everyone’s in the same place, and we’re all able to be exactly ten minutes late.” The only downside to sharing are the recent and yet unexplained disappearances of my chocolate mousse and Jenny’s garlic mayo from the fridge. When I ask about our favourite moments from tour, the cast all immediately talk about their favourite anecdotes, whether it be a certain cast member’s alleged hoarding of glass jars in the kitchen or Jenny’s so-called “post-midnight alter ego,” which Abi describes as: “a little bit violent”. An early sign of this dictatorial persona was forcing us to watch One Day.

The Fringe has been an educational experience for all of us. Miles points out that: “it’s a very useful experience because the demographic in Cambridge is Cambridge students, and the things that people respond to are quite similar … you have to learn how to pitch yourself to different demographics.” Abi agrees: “the laughs feel more satisfying because of that. It’s not like in Cambridge where you’ve told your mates to come and it’s 11PM and they’re just happy not to be writing an essay.” Jenny says that she also feels: “less in her element … there’s no reason for these people to like me and they have no idea who I am.” Abi finds this: “quite freeing because they’ll never see you again. It’s not like if you do a bad job your mates will talk about it forever and they’ll all call you ‘Bad Job Abi.’” We also agree that the shows we’ve been seeing are completely changing our perspective on writing, performing and directing comedy, with Jenny saying her most recent stand-up was completely different to how she’d normally write it, having learnt more about setting up jokes, call backs, and other comedy lessons which are a dime-a-dozen at the Fringe. The likability of a comedian’s persona, we have come to learn, is essential.

“It’s totally surreal to realise that you are living the stories you’ll hash and rehash to your mates”

Of course, some elements of Edinburgh aren’t so rosy. Abi notes that: “it is easy to get in your head” after performing every day. Miles adds that having wanted to do the Fringe for several years, he was: “quite quickly hit with what works and what doesn’t. You have to learn not to take it personally and that’s an adjustment. I think that’s something Cambridge students can relate to – getting that harsh feedback.” Despite all of this, there already seems to be a sense of nostalgia from all of us for the show. Jenny jokes that: “before we even left Cambridge, Abi was jealous of next year’s tour.” This hits home; just before this discussion, we were looking over photos from last week, like they were from the good old days… it’s totally surreal to realise that you are living the stories you’ll hash and rehash to your mates.

Some advice for next year’s tour is eventually doled out:

“Try to balance your expectation and ideal. Some things are going to work out in a way that you’re not used to.” - Miles

“Enjoy Edinburgh rather than focusing on a particular joke that doesn’t hit every night because we won’t remember that. We’ll remember the experience more broadly.” - Abi

“Try not to take anything personally. Treat tour like a skill you’re honing. And also go to bed sometimes.” - Jenny

I definitely agree with that last point.