Inside Story

EVERY August, Edinburgh's resident's rent out their desirable flats to festival performers. Here, some Fringe stars invite LEE RANDALL into their lovely, temporary homes.

LIKE A CASTLE OFF THE COWGATE

LIKE San Francisco's Lombard Street transported to the land of kilts and heather, Guthrie Street's 90 degree bend and vertiginous incline, off the Cowgate, offer sweeping vistas over the rooftops of the Old Town.

I'm met at the door of a bijoux pied-a-terre by the friendly family dog, Marcus, who greets me warmly before rushing off to brew a cup of tea. Fastidious Manal Elfeitury, star of fabulous Fringe show Big Bruvva – the Musical, is running the vacuum. Her partner, Patrick Monahan, bursts through the door in a flurry of kissing and hugging. The effusive comic – part father figure, part philanthropist – offers a tour, starting in the sitting room occupied by twin leather sofas over-arched by an enormous tent.

"Laura (Stevens] and Lu (Bassoli] had been staying out in Mortonhall and getting a magical bus every night on Princes Street. It must be the only bus picking people up in the city centre and dropping them off in a field!" But the first week's torrential rains proved disastrous. "We got a call in the middle of the night saying the rains had smashed their tent and snapped their spike in two places, so we said, come here and camp. Their sleeping bags were ruined so they're on the sofas, using our spare towels as blankets."

Monahan's generosity is such that they've played host to up to 17, a feat made possible by such measures as the willingness of one couple to share a bottom bunk, and of other residents to nestle on the floor. More snooze under canvas on capacious sofa beds so vast that three apiece is no squeeze at all. Monahan opens a door. "This is one of the few places where a washing machine would have its own room. If not for that, we'd probably get a few more people in here!"

In the kitchen he points to an array of pans displayed on open shelving. "It's one of the few Edinburgh flats to have 11 pans of the same size. The woman who lives here, my mate's best mate's sister, has twins, so they must eat a lot of porridge. It's also," he spins towards a hi-tech control panel, "one of the few flats where performers have hot water on touch. You've got to touch it three times, though. Or maybe two. It's a lottery."

FAB FOUR THROW OPEN THE DOORS OF THEIR LUXURY NEW TOWN RETREAT

IN A relaxed moment away from their hectic festival schedule, I caught up with comics Lloyd Langford, Elis James, Dan Atkinson and John Gordillo at their spacious duplex, filled with striking features that would set any estate agent's heart racing.

Here, for example, in a corner of their vast living room, is a decorative indoor water feature, activated by the recent rains. It comes with its own Irn Bru distillery, which the lads invite me to admire. "When it turns bright orange we'll know it's ready," says Langford.

The family-sized kitchen is a miracle of modern engineering, so sophisticated that it keeps them guessing. Atkinson explains: "Having instructions is very old fashioned. This is the new thing, where you just know how to use it." Langford takes over. "There are no numbers on the oven so there's no way of knowing which bit you've turned on or how hot you've made it. It's like trying to crack a safe. But look," he turns to the washer, its façade dense with digits. "They put all the numbers from the oven on the washing machine."

The striking kitchen décor necessitated certain sacrifices, however. Atkinson flings open the refrigerator. "Someone, deciding to make it all look beautiful, removed the door of the actual fridge and attached it to the door of the cupboard, so when it's closed, the seals don't meet. We've got frost along the back wall and mouldy food."

"We've got mouldy food?" inquires Gordillo mournfully, as he thoughtfully brews mugs of steaming coffee for the gang.

Separate heating arrangements ensure that the foursome has ample choice between hot and cold, since downstairs is adjustable and upstairs is permanently set to Sahara. "There's a sauna effect in the bedrooms. We had to turn off the upstairs heating and the hot water to stop from frying to a crisp," explains Langford, who's been losing sleep due to the placement of a skylight above his bed. "They very wisely put it there so that when it rains I'm woken up."

Other unique decorating touches include a door, rather than the traditional Georgian wooden shutters, on one window of Gordillo's bedroom. "He had real issues with his show to start with, so we put that there to prevent him leaving via the window," quips Atkinson who, despite his tender years, is so serious and dedicated to his craft that he's become the unofficial "house-mother".

"Dan is the glue of this little house, the sun around which all these planets revolve, the spider at the centre of these flies," says Gordillo.

KEEPING FAITH IN A SOUTHSIDE SANCTUARY

PAUL KERENSA invites us into his sunny Southside retreat, the second of three shares he has lined up in an effort to trim costs ahead of his upcoming wedding, which his fiancée back home is planning single-handedly while also buying the couple's house.

"We're so far south of the Meadows that I can see a sign saying 'Welcome to Berwick-upon-Tweed,'" he jokes, welcoming us into a flat adorned with religious affirmations and paintings reflecting the owners' shared appreciation for the Christian faith.

"I have a passing fancy for Christianity, but look on Edinburgh as a respite," confesses Kerensa. "I see it as a month of staying up until 6am, lots of cheeseburgers and kebabs and tequila slammers. The first night I was a bit lonely and suggested to my roommates that we go out for a meal. They announced that they were on a Biblical fast from the Old Testament. Daniel, I think. They weren't eating anything processed – mainly rice, fruit and vegetables – all festival. In Scotland! They're starving, basically, slowly melting away, half the men they used to be. They go to bed at 9pm. As I'm stumbling home in the morning they're heading out for bible studies."

Kerensa found himself wide-awake one 4am. "To get to sleep I thought I'd read one of the books on the shelf, but all hundred or so volumes were in keeping with the planned daily Bible studies. I had to choose between DA Carson's commentary of John's gospel, or EP Sanders' The Historical Figure of Jesus. Instead I opted to listen to Bill Hicks on my iPod. I felt quite dirty. It's a holy place, this is."

Kerensa is quick to stress that his flatmates are generous, sweet blokes who haven't asked him to abstain from eating and drinking in the flat, and don't judge him. Still, he feels guilty. "I make sure I eat my takeaways in the stairwell. They're good Christian people and don't want to make a profit, so the rent's quite cheap, but the price I have to pay is no deep-fried pizzas this year.

"Last year I ate them five days in a row. I'm hooked on them."

AN UNEXPECTED WELCOME GIFT FROM ARTISANS OF CRAIGMILLAR

LITHE, lovely Sally-Anne Hayward is fast on her feet – a trait that's come in handy during her stay in Craigmillar, where it's not unusual to scamper through the streets at pace, outrunning high-spirited youngsters auditioning for their place on Britain's Olympic athletics team in the stone-throwing division.

Surrounded by breathtaking scenery on a grand scale – Arthur's Seat is visible from the back garden – Hayward says that living in the home of an old university chum has proven invaluable for her comedy routine, providing her with no end of amusing vignettes. "I saw a woman whose ground floor flat overlooked the wheelie bins. To throw anything away she'd need to get up, walk out of the building and around to the side. Instead, she used the hook of her walking stick to hoist the bin up and put her garbage in it!"

The ingenuity of the craftspeople in this close-knit artisan community is breathtaking. When they're not creating striking murals by throwing eggs at the house, they're mastering the lost art of putting dog faeces into balloons, the better to slip through the letter box. Not to be outdone, her friend painted the top of her garden fence so that the local "wee shits" would be marked if they tried to climb over. "One of them actually knocked on her door to complain when his hands were covered in paint."

But she's been pleasantly surprised by the generosity of her neighbours in the form of gifts – such as the cat carcass they threw into her front garden, which she keeps filled with prickly plants to keep the 'little f***ers' away."

Stopping outwith the city centre, away from other performers, helps quell Hayward's tendency to fret. Instead of obsessing about how well the show is going, when she's off duty, "my friend and I go for a spin in the car, through the burnt-out buildings. Other times we walk into Duddingston Village, to the atmospheric Sheep's Heid, allegedly the oldest pub in Scotland, and my favourite."

Elis James is in South by South Wales at the Gilded Balloon Teviot until 25 August. Paul Kerensa's iPaul is at the Baby Belly until 24 August. Sally-Anne Hayward is in Cyril at Faith until 24 August. Patrick Monahan is in Time Bandit at the Underbelly, until 24 August. Dan Atkinson: The Credit Crunch and Other Biscuits is at the Pleasance Courtyard until 25 August. John Gordillo: Dive & Conga is at the Pleasance Dome until 25 August. Lloyd Langford: Not a Lover, Not a Fighter is at the Underbelly until 24 August. Manal Elfeitury is in Big Bruvva The Musical, at Musical Theatre @ George Square until 25 August.