I got home from the Chicago comedy festival about 2 weeks ago, and I am now into the third week of my longest continuous stretch at home since October 2007. I should really be outside skipping freely through one of the many wonderful public parks that Edinburgh has to offer in the summertime, but instead I am sitting at the kitchen table watching the rain batter off the pavement outside. It is 3 in the afternoon and I kid you not, the clouds in the sky are so dark that a moth is currently smashing his head against the window trying to get to the small blue light coming from my Ipod speakers. Either that, or he's just really into Coldplay.

To be fair, this is the first bad day in what has otherwise been a very pleasant couple of weeks here in Edinburgh. I haven't really done much, other than a little bit of reading and writing and watching far too much tennis. Of course this year's Wimbledon was particularly exciting because we had a bona fide potential winner in the form of Andy Murray. He was incredibly the 3rd seed going into the tournament. We haven't had a 3rd seeded sportsman from Scotland since they abolished the 50-foot Belly Flop at the Olympics! It was heartbreaking to see Murray crash out in the semi-finals, but at least that proves his ranking was spot on? It is a little known fact that when I was a kid I applied for a position as a ball boy at Wimbledon. I got a letter back from the Lawn Tennis Association informing me that I was ineligible because I did not attend one of the 'approved schools' from which their ball boys and ball girls are annually selected. Apparently, privately-educated children are better at picking up a ball on the run than the Oliver Twists of this world! It still hurts when I read that rejection letter...and the other 24 rejection letters they have sent me every year since. Apparently now, I'm 'too old.' Whatever! Fascists.

I am heading off to the Canadian festivals in Toronto and Montreal early next week, so if you live in either of these two mighty Canadian cities, then please come along. A good few of you have messaged me asking if I am doing the Edinburgh Festival this year? Unfortunately, I will not be there as I am off to LA for a while after Canada. I don't know if I have mentioned this in my previous correspondences, but I will be filming a one-man Comedy Central Special for my American friends in July (that's right, fuck you Lawn Tennis Association!) Nobody really knows who I am over there, so it will be interesting to see how it goes down? I am planning to be in the States until at least the end of the year. I will be doing gigs mainly, and hopefully I'll pick up a writing job, or a spot on Leno, or something? Anything? In preparation, I have been reading an absorbing book called The Presidents by Stephen Graubard. I figure if I'm gonna' be spending some time in the US, it's important to know my Bush's from my Roosevelts? (which sounds like something a dyslexic gardener might write.) I even went to the Hard Rock Café in Edinburgh on Saturday for lunch hoping to passively soak up some American culture on Independence Day, but instead discovered it was full of people from just about everywhere else on the planet except America. Besides, there is something not right about celebrating America's independence from England, when you yourself live in Scotland! Anyway, the point is, I'm not doing the Edinburgh festival this year, but I will definitely be back next year unless I get sidetracked with ball-boy-ing duties.

Well, it looks like it might be brightening up a bit out there, so I better go catch some rays, man. That moth is still banging it's head against the window so definitely a Coldplay fan. I will write another blog from Canada and let you know how my gigs with John Cleese went. Oh, didn't I mention that? Well, there's something to look forward to in my next blog...

Cheers everyone,

Danny

I'm writing this substantially long-overdue blog from my hotel room in Christchurch, New Zealand, where the management have very thoughtfully left on my desk a platter of cheese and a card with a picture of a gecko on the front and a message inside asking me to call them "if the bed sheets are tucked in too tight?" It's an unusual welcome note, but in the past 3 months of touring, I have received my fair share of strange gifts including a book on 'Mastering Body Language', a tartan cap with fake ginger hair sticking out the sides, a T-shirt with a somewhat disturbing stencil of my face on it, and a travel iron. Such gifts are always gratefully received but occasionally do result in some serious head-scratching (especially the tartan cap). One lady in South Australia (I forget where) baked me some muffins and left a note which read "best enjoyed with a long black" ,which I was later extremely relieved to find out was a style of coffee. Occasionally I get something quite special, like the very nice couple in Brisbane who presented me with some rather lovely limited edition prints, none of which had my face on them.

I have just completed another marathon tour of Australia and I'm now 5 shows into my New Zealand run. If you are interested to know how Kiwi audiences differ from Australian audiences, then I would draw your attention to a couple of young lads at the Civic Theatre in Auckland a few night's ago who only turned up for the last 20 minutes of the show. Then after taking their seats in the front row, one of them proceeded to casually make a phone call. The story gets even more astonishing when I found out that the guy he was calling was at the back of theatre! I'm pretty sure The Nutcracker Suite doesn't have this problem when it tours? When challenged, he proudly handed me the phone and asked me if I wouldn't mind saying "hello". It took enormous restraint not to take the phone from him and smash it into his stupid little face. Apart from that little incident the New Zealand shows have been going rather well.

I have now been on tour since the 31st of January and I think it's fair to say I'm ready to go home. That first gig in Mount Gambier back in January seems so very long ago now. I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I bounded onto the stage that evening in stark contrast to the weary, ashen-faced wreck appearing dutifully from the wings of late. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and providing that light isn't an oncoming train, I think I'm gonna' make it. It's been a long slog, and I am absolutely shattered, but it's also been a lot of fun. There have been many highlights. The great Australian cities of Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, Perth and Adelaide (yes, Adelaide) provided a strong backbone to an extensive regional tour all around Australia which saw me take in everywhere from the jumping university towns of Armidale to the sleepy retirement centres of Horsham (sorry Horsham). Along the way, I met many great people, and a few arseholes. The crowds were generally fantastic and, (with the exception of Coffs Harbour), extremely well-behaved. And now there are only a handful of shows back in regional Victoria when I get back there next week for it to all go belly up.

I would like to thank everyone who has been supportive on this tour, which means I would definitely NOT like to thank Telstra. Apparently if I use my phone anywhere outside of Melbourne's CBD, then I am technically classed as 'roaming' and start to incur the kind of charges that suggest I am not so much using my phone as putting itthrough a private education. Apparently the 'plan' I'm on does not support me moving around while I talk. I'm pretty sure when Alexander Graham Bell made that first call he didn't open with "now, before we go any further Mr. Watson, can I just ask you what plan you are on at the moment?" Nor, did he imagine that one day his landmark invention would result in giant call centres full of people who want to kill themselves on the phone to people who also want to kill them. Anyway, other than Telstra, I have had nothing but support and encouragement from the good people of Australia this past 4 months and I would like to thank you all. (I just won't be doing it by phone).

I head back to Edinburgh on the 3rd of June, where I'm hoping to have 12 days of rest before I head out to the Chicago, Toronto and Montreal festivals over June and July. It will be a short, but necessary stop back in my home city of Edinburgh. Heaven only knows what bills and sheriff's orders await? All I know is, for a full 12 days I will be able to sit in my flat and enjoy the fact that I don't need to pack a case, get on a plane or think of jokes (well, 2 out of 3's not bad). I have torn out a few interesting recipes from various magazines over the past 4 months, so maybe I will set to task on a few of them, although quite where I will find fresh kangaroo steak in Edinburgh is anyone's guess? I'm looking forward to seeing my nieces and nephews and opening with the obligatory "my, haven't you grown?" before being kicked in the shins and chased around the garden by a giant 16 year old. It's strange to think that because I've changed hemispheres, in the past 4 months I have jumped from winter to autumn, to winter and now soon to be in spring. But then, I've lived in Scotland most of my life, so it's not so unusual to miss out summers altogether.

The seasons have changed and so have I. With the end of every tour comes the hope that you are a better comedian, a little wiser, a bit more relaxed, and a little closer to finally settling down. Maybe all or none of these is true. All I know is, I'm down to my last clean T-shirt, but unfortunately it has a stencil of my face on it. My trousers are dirty and crumpled, but with the help of my trusty travel iron, the audience will never be able to tell the difference. And there are a few more grey hairs on my head, but nothing a cap with ginger bits sticking out the sides can't hide. I have no idea when I'll be back to this side of the world, but until then, thanks again. Stay safe. And keep laughing.

Danny

Last Sunday night in Melbourne was a landmark moment for me, because it was the first time since I arrived here in late January that I put a jumper on. It was 11.32pm exactly and I had to go outside and walk 2 blocks to the nearest store to get some milk. To be honest it was a borderline decision. I probably could have easily made it there and back in a t-shirt while experiencing at worst 'a slight chill', but the jumper went on, and instead I came back with 'a bit of a sweat'. Such trivialities probably bore you, but these are just a taste of the things which start to occupy my thoughts after 3 weeks of touring. Just wait until we get to week 24 (who knows? a jacket even?)

Most of Monday was spent washing the biggest pile of laundry since Rosemary West got a call from the police saying 'they were coming back to the house in a few hours because they forgot to check the shed.' By contrast to my humdrum day at the laundrette, Monday was Oscars Night in Hollywood. As I held up T-shirts and jeans which had depressingly shrunk in the fixed 'blast-furnace 3' setting of the tumble dryer, I glanced up at the TV, where 100's of celebrities adorned the famous red carpet in their exclusive designer robes.

I don't want to be a killjoy, but I would have thought in these tough economic times, it might have been an idea to skip the most needlessly ostentatious event on the planet. I don't imagine too many of the 1 million Americans who have recently lost their jobs would have been too concerned with who had a 'wardrobe nightmare' on the red carpet. "Sweet Jesus honey! Will you look at what Sarah Jessica Parker has done to her hair! Oh and we might have to eat the dog next week." Some people argue that such events are important to the morale of the nation in tough times (I'm sure the Tibetans were told the same thing about last year's Olympic Games.) I must admit I started to get a little mesmerised by the endless array of sparkling dresses and strapless tops, until I realised that this definitely wasn't my laundry. I apologised to the lady next to me as we swapped baskets and I sheepishly made my way to the exit. "And the bra as well please?" she said sternly as I was sneaking out the door.

Last week's shows in South Australia proved to me once again that very often in the most unlikely of places, you find the most perceptive and appreciative crowds. I remember driving into places like Renmark and Port Pririe and thinking 'Oh the humanity? how can this be?' But, the shows were packed full of the best crowds I've played to so far. I was quite worried about the new show a month ago, but it seems to have found its feet in the past few weeks and I'm really enjoying performing it now. There are no gimmicks or catchphrases in this show, it's just a few stories about my life in, and also away from comedy. I hope those of you who have seen it so far have enjoyed it. Special mention should go to the town of Whyalla where I picked up a local newspaper and read one of my favourite headlines of all time. It simply read "COMEDIAN COMES TO WHYALLA" That'll be me then.

Tonight I am in Wollongong, (or 'The Gong' as it's known locally). It's an attractive sort of beachside town, which can sometimes result in a frustrating lack of urgency (it took over half an hour to get a coffee this morning. I was the only one in the shop.) After the show last night I went into a Greek takeaway and asked if I could have the seafood pizza without the anchovies. The man behind the counter said that 'it came with anchovies.' I said "I was aware of that, but could he perhaps just not put them on?" A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead, his eyes shifted from side to side and he said he "would have to speak to his boss." His boss made the trip down several flights of stairs to get a handle on this whole 'anchovy affair'. He suspiciously looked me up and down and then told the man that "that was fine", and eventually the man began rolling the dough but he was clearly still a little fazed by this maverick order. Such events are the subject of much gossip in these regional towns, and today without a word of a lie, a woman came up to me in the street and said "I heard you caused a bit of a scene in the Greek place last night?" Hilarious.

The next 2 weeks are pretty hectic for me with back to back shows in regional NSW, with the exception of a show in Canberra on Saturday night which I am catching an early evening flight from Sydney to make in the nick of time. It will be very tight, and I apologise in advance to the good people of Canberra if I am a little flustered when I take to the stage, but just be thankful that I made it at all, because if that flight is delayed we're all screwed. I'm also doing a spot next Monday at the State Theatre Benefit in Sydney for victims of the bush fires. The line-up is stupidly good, and of course the cause is extremely worthy. Actually on that note, I should mention that I was touring regional Victoria the weekend of the worst bush fires, and I was absolutely terrified. I was very lucky to escape the worst hit areas (sometimes by a matter of hours) but over the next few days as the full extent of the devastation became apparent, I became aware of just how fortunate I was. The following week was a difficult week of shows to get through, and my thoughts and heartfelt sympathies remain with the victims of a region and country I have grown to love.

Goodbye for now.

Danny

And a very Happy New Year to you all. I realise that to some of you this seems a little belated, but to my Chinese readers my timing is impeccable. For as I'm sure you are all aware this weekend is the Chinese New Year, and I am here in Singapore (close enough) to celebrate it with all my oriental brothers and sisters. I am told that 2009 is the Year of The Ox, which signals a return to strong leadership and resilience (I wonder who that could be?) I can only assume by the same token, that the last 8 years have all been The Year of the Cock. Actually, last year was The Year of The Rat, which given the revelations in the financial world probably doesn't need a punchline.

I spent New Year in Edinburgh this year, where I saw in the bells alone in my own flat watching the fireworks fill the night sky above Edinburgh Castle. I remember when I was a young teenager I used to love New Year. Myself, and my mate Darren, would stumble up and down the packed Royal Mile in the rain snogging anyone that would let us. One year I counted 10 snogs! Darren (who was far more brazen than I) landed 14 snogs, but said he couldn't be sure they were all female, but he was pretty sure one was a policewoman, so double points?..Ah, to be young!) I cringe when I think back now to those carefree days of sexual liberation (as I'm sure those other 10 girls do), but swapping saliva with a cocktail of strangers in Edinburgh was very much the way New Year was done in my day. This New Year, the only tongue to venture into my mouth was from the likely contents of a chorizo sausage I bought back from Spain which I had to eat when I remembered all the shops were closed.

So here we are in 2009, and everyone is asking me what the year ahead holds for us. Well, I am no Nostradamus, but here are a few Danny Bhoy predications for this year:

January: Gordon Brown resigns as Prime Minister of Britain after he is found wandering around East Grinstead shopping centre in his underpants screaming at people to 'buy things!'

February: A bank in Scotland becomes the first bank in history to hold up it's customers at gunpoint and demand they empty their bank accounts. This sparks a string of similar hold ups around the country and in one day complete anarchy breaks out across Europe. After a 7-day war between 'The Suits' and 'The Non-Suits' a defining battle takes place in Belgium and The Suits narrowly take back the financial world.

March: Richard Branson is arbitrarily appointed by the Queen as Prime Minister of the newly-formed United Kingdom of Virgin. The economy is stabilised and the feel-good factor returns as everyone is required by law to travel to work in a hot air balloon.

April: Osama Bin Laden is discovered tied up in George Bush's shed in Texas. Apparently he had been there since shortly after 9/11. Bush attempts to flee the scene, but has accidentally locked himself in his own house, and is eventually arrested and charged with absolutely everything.

May: Prince Harry is caught on camera at a party in Cape Town dressed as a golliwog. He claims the photo was taken 'out of context', and it was 'just a bit of fun'. He is let off with a warning.

June: The world of celebrity officially overtakes the world of news in global importance. Celebrity reporters become the biggest group of employees in the UK, with a ratio of 2 reporters to 1 celebrity. After celebrities complain that undercover reporters are ruining their lives the government attempts to pass a bill declaring all celebrity reporters must be made visible at all times by dressing in a clown outfit. The opposition reject the bill claiming this would simply lead to a media circus. (classic)

July: In an unprecedented move by the opposing factions in the Middle East, it is decided that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict will be resolved by a giant game of Twister on the West Bank. Palestine wins, but American intervention manages to negotiate a 'best of 3' scenario, and Israel remains a state for now.

August: Prince Harry is photographed at a Ku Klux Klan meeting in Alabama dressed as a Grand Wizard. He tells reporters that it was' just a bit of fun.' That he 'has black friends' and that 'he didn't intend it to cause any offense.' He is let off with a warning.

September: Robert Mugabe is heavily defeated at the polls in Zimbabwe's general election and so begins his 4th term in office as President.

October: In a truly remarkable discovery Lionel Messi, Kaka and Ronaldo all discover they have Scottish ancestry, and feel the only right thing to do is to play for their mother country. The Scottish Football Association welcomes Messi and Kaka with open arms, but rejects Ronaldo's application.

November: The Apple Corporation bring out the new 1600G IBrain, a new brain which is lighter, more portable, and has more capacity than the regular human brain. It becomes the must-have Christmas present as thousands sign up, but customers are warned that in some rural areas their brains may not be able to pick up a signal until 2014. This has no effect on sales in Cornwall.

December: Jesus Christ makes a much anticipated return to Earth, but his comeback message of peace and goodwill is slightly overshadowed by the pragmatic social and economic results of Barrack Obama. Scotland draw at home to Iceland.

I will be starting my ridiculously long Australian tour on 31st January in Mount Gambier. Please check the website if you fancy coming along to one of the shows.

All the best for 2009 everyone,

Danny

Hello everyone,

Last week, I went to 2 of the most mind-blowing places on earth, and remarkably they are both within an hour of each other. The first of those places was Las Vegas, the self-styled capital of razzmatazz. I have been to Vegas once before, for the same reason I was in Vegas this time, The Las Vegas Comedy Festival. On the face of it, you wouldn't necessarily put Las Vegas and 'comedy festival' together. There are so many shows on in Vegas all the time anyway, that it's a bit like putting on a jazz festival in New Orleans. That said, it still managed to once again attract some of the biggest names in comedy. Jerry Seinfeld and Ellen De Generes to name but two (partly because I can't remember the others). Las Vegas is one of those places that never cease to amaze me. It really does show exactly what man is capable of achieving (if by 'man' you mean 'mafia')

From the moment you get off the plane in Las Vegas, you are greeted by an atmosphere of jubilation mixed with chronic desperation, it really is quite unnerving. The arrivals lounge is shared with the departure lounge, which means as you breathe in the suspiciously heavily-oxygenated air for the first time, you also have a chance to gaze into the eyes of people on their way out of Vegas, and there may well not be a more harrowing human image than that. 'How could these people look so miserable?' I thought as I eyed up the giant posters on the walls showing lots of people roaring with laughter as they threw dice at tables...Clearly gambling is just lots of fun! Isn't it? But instead, there in the departure lounge was a group of dour, weary, unshaven individuals (and that was just the woman), wringing the empty space on their wrist where their watch used to be. But I would not let the mood be brought down by these sore losers and I fixed my sights firmly on the dazzling lights of the famous Vegas Strip in the distance and swiftly marched to the baggage carousel.

I was staying at Caesars Palace, right in the heart of the famous Strip. The hotel was massive, and the surrounding complex was even bigger. Basically, it was possible to check in on Friday and not actually find your room until Sunday. Each area of the hotel was named after a Roman legend. So, you could stay in the Augustus Towers, or sip cocktails in Cleopatra's nightclub. Each area of the hotel was sensitively recreated in the stylings of the great empire of Rome. I'm sure had Julius Caesar been given the option, he too would have happily signed off on a 3 year residency for Celine Dion in The Forum. I'm sure he would also have been delighted to see a giant statue of himself wearing a party shop arrow through his head and a pair of bright red boxer shorts to promote a Comedy Festival! I was pretty jet-lagged the night before the show, so I turned in early ordering a 'Brutus Burger' from the room service menu. Room service food is one of the greatest, and most destructive, elements of a comedian's life. There is something very comforting in the actual ordering of the food, but when you are lying on a bed an hour later surrounded by the leftovers of reheated chicken wings, it does tend to feel a bit like Elvis's final days. The basic rule is to avoid any fish dish. I ordered the Clam Chowder soup in a slightly dodgy hotel in Darlington a few months ago, and experienced the kind of sickness that you would usually associate with Dickensian times.

The following evening I performed in the Ballroom on the opening night of the festival. I was on with Mitch Fatel and Jamie Kennedy, both well-established comedians in the US. I was very much the "who the hell is this guy?" addition to the bill, and I very much lived up to that billing in the opening few moments of my 25 minute set. Fortunately, I was able to turn the crowd opinion to the "hey, that first guy was quite funny" conclusion by the end of the performance, and I was more than happy with that outcome. Then on Friday night I got tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld, which was simply amazing. He did just under 80 minutes of top drawer observational comedy, and showed himself to be every bit the legend of comedy I have long held him to be. On my way back through the patchwork of casinos which make up just about every thoroughfare in Vegas, I saw something which summed up Vegas for me. It was a slot machine called 'The Credit Crunch!' (No, I'm not kidding!) Anywhere else in the world this would have been an example of monumental bad taste, but this was Vegas, and there was a bloody queue to play it! I'm not sure if you actually won money on it? Perhaps you hit a button and if 5 'Lehman Brothers' logos came up on the winning line you reduced the national debt. I really don't know? All I know is, having a Credit Crunch Slot machine is a bit like having a Tsunami Wave Pool, or a Jeffery Dahmer fridge freezer, it just 'aint right. Such disregard for the rest of the world's economic woes is entirely understandable in a city where 'high rollers' regularly fritter away more money than an epileptic at an auction*. Basically, Las Vegas will always exist, as long as there are rich, stupid people in the world.

By Saturday, I was ready to leave Las Vegas, which means by Sunday I was really ready to leave Las Vegas, which means by Monday I had nearly shot myself in the head. I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to stay on in Vegas the day after the festival ended. It felt a bit like staying on in Edinburgh after the festival is over there, oh no, hang on, I do that every year. I live there. But, Vegas is different partly because it continues to be just as maddeningly frenetic after the comedy festival has packed up and left. Indeed, the vast majority of people there were scarcely even aware a comedy festival was on! Vegas is definitely one of those places you have to visit at least once (but probably no more than once) in your lifetime. It is more tacky than a flashing Celine Dion fridge magnet. How do I know this? Because you could actually buy a flashing Celine Dion fridge magnet.

On Monday, I realised I had to get out of Vegas so I booked myself a helicopter tour to the second most mind-blowing place on earth, The Grand Canyon. Those of you who read my last blog will know that this is the 2nd Wonder of the World which I have visited in as many months. I'm not planning gigs around this principle, it really is just coincidence.** Anyway, 2 things immediately concerned me when I turned up at the helicopter base for the Canyon tour. The first was that I had never been in a helicopter before and therefore a breakneck flight through the twists and turns of a gigantic gorge was probably not the ideal first-time experience. And secondly, a 20-stone American was in the same queue as me! 'Please let him just be asking a question.' I thought. But no, he was there to enjoy the same trip which I was now extremely unlikely to enjoy myself. As it happens everything was fine, apparently the helicopter could easily accommodate 6 people the size and weight of my American companion (a fact the pilot rather insensitively highlighted by pointing at the large gentlemen and saying "don't worry, we can take up to 6 of him!")

The trip took us deep down into the gully of the canyon where we parked up for an hour and watched the sunset. It was a bewitching experience. Only a 45 minute flight from Las Vegas, but it felt like a lifetime away. This was nature's Vegas, the earth's Strip. There was no need for artificial illuminations here, merely the enlivening glow of the morning sunrise and the soft autumnal changes of this beautiful evening sunset. I have never seen the colour red in some many different guises before. Quite simply breathtaking. No one really said anything as we watched the sun go down, it wasn't that kind of place. Afterwards we got back into the helicopter and headed back to Vegas which now twinkled far off in the distance.

Flying over Vegas at dusk on my last night of a 6-week tour of North America felt a little sad. It had been such a great trip. I remembered back to that first night in the icy cold reaches of the Maritimes in Eastern Canada. The many laughs and temperature changes I had travelling across Canada, with some of the nicest comedians and production staff I have ever worked with. I recalled fondly some of the beautiful old theatres we played along the way where you could really feel a sense of history, and I smiled as I remembered the cold election night in Winnipeg where we huddled together in a cosy bar and witnessed history. And this was the end of this journey swooping down over the impressively vulgar, and strangely enticing Vegas skyline. I put on my IPod and listened to my favourite track of the moment, 'American Tune' by Paul Simon (which was also one of the soundtracks to Obama's campaign.) I hoped to be back in the States again soon, although perhaps not to Las Vegas. When I got back to the hotel I packed up all my stuff, carefully wrapping each Celine Dion fridge magnet in plenty of tissue paper. I sat in my room for a while staring out of the window until I realised that I couldn't come all the way to Las Vegas and not have at least one gamble. So I picked up the phone and ordered the Clam Chowder.

Danny Bhoy.

*This is a very funny line. Please reread.

** Before I forget, tickets for my show next month at the Great Pyramids Comedy Festival go on sale January 2nd.

I am in a place called Ottawa which I've just found out is the capital of Canada. (My apologies to the nation of Canada, but I genuinely thought it was Toronto). The huge parliament buildings which grace the city centre as I winged my way into the city this morning were my first clue. The second clue was a huge sign as we drove off from the airport saying "Welcome to Canada's capital city of Ottawa" I guess that's why I'm known as an observational comic. We are roughly halfway through this 4-week tour of Canada which has been hugely enjoyable. In one of the many highlights, yesterday I went to Niagara Falls which is only an hour long drive from Toronto, which is sooo not the capital of Canada.

Niagara Falls is only the second 'Wonder of The World' I can vouch to having visited in my life, the first being the great Taj Mahal in India. That was a slightly different experience as I was only 11 at the time and distinctly remember being annoyed that I had to get on a tour bus and leave the hotel pool to go see some stupid marble palace. In fact I remember spending much of the day playing Donkey Kong on an old portable Nintendo while a tour guide bleated on about 'the greatest architectural masterpiece in the World' blah, blah, blah. 'The Taj Mahal was built on 4 levels.' Big wow! Donkey Kong had 8! I remember being similarly unresponsive when being dragged along to see the Mona Lisa in the Louvre in Paris when I was 13, the difference being I was still underwhelmed when I visited it again last month. But when I found out we were going to visit the Niagara Falls yesterday, I was genuinely excited. Heck, I didn't even pack my playstation.

People often ask me what I do when I have a few days off from stand up? The answer (at least today) is that I jump on an early morning train from Edinburgh to London where I catch a connecting commuter train to Crystal Palace just in time to make a game of football with some of my fellow comedians which happens every Tuesday at 2pm. It’s madness, I know. But it’s quite simply the most enjoyable thing in my life, and why let the slight inconvenience of a 788 mile round trip get in the way of that. The thing is, I’m not very good at football, but then it’s not really about the football. It’s a really good work out especially after a month of excess in Edinburgh, but it’s not really about the exercise either. It’s about the people and the banter.

To millions of people around the globe, tomorrow sees the start of the 25th Games of the Olympiad in Beijing, but to a considerably smaller group of people tomorrow marks the opening of the 10th anniversary of the Comedy of Danny Bhoy in East Lothian. I’m sure when the Olympic Committee discovered their big opening clashed with such a momentous event on the other side of world they were kicking themselves (which incidentally I’ve always thought should be an event). In fact, there is an argument that stand up comedy requires similar skills to that of our top Olympic athletes. I may not be very good at throwing an object for distance, but I’m not too bad at dodging them. And trying to keep one’s focus and balance while attempting to get through a complicated routine almost perfectly describes my last gig in Port Hedland, Australia. Perhaps one day, falling into an orchestra pit will be an Olympic event, in which case I’ve got the gold in the bag!

I am back in London after a week long mini tour of Ireland where I played some delightful little venues up and down the country. Ireland is the ultimate ‘wind down’ country. There really does seem to be nothing there that requires immediate attention. I was asked by the front of house manager in Sligo if I had a policy on latecomers? I said I didn’t mind if people drifted in after the start of the show. “Thank god!” she said “otherwise the show would be completely empty!” I was travelling round with top Australian comic Adam Hills, who had a week of holiday planned after Kilkenny, but like all comics started to itchy feet…well, foot. We started in Ballybofey up in the North of Ireland, and then did shows in Roscommon, Carrick On Shannon, Galway, Sligo and Cork. I was, of course, concentrating hard on my forthcoming Edinburgh show..so much so, that I nearly missed an easy 3 foot putt on the 15th at Strandhill. It was a brilliant week. One of the highlights for me was the gig in Roscommon where I conducted a mock Communion with some audience members including a prominent local Member of Parliament. Allow me to explain...

And welcome to my first April blog of 2008. It seems like months since I last sent a few paragraphs about my life out there into cyberspace, hoping that someone somewhere reads them with mild interest. I’m still here in my flat in Edinburgh which hasn’t changed much since my last blog. Oh, actually, I bought a chest of drawers yesterday from a local charity shop which now stands proudly in my bedroom supporting a flatscreen TV. The charity shop had neglected to clear out all the items belonging to the previous owner from the drawers, which means I am now the owner of a pair of legwarmers, a nearly full pack of cards, a French textbook and a black and white photograph of a child standing next to a circus elephant. It’s understandable that the charity shop probably thought such items were not really sellable as individual pieces, but to smuggle them into my chest was a little underhand. Shame on you Dr. Barnardo.

It’s the end of my tour of Western Australia which started on the 5th of February in Perth. It has been another amazing if slightly draining tour. As one woman said to me at the last show “Danny, you’re looking tired.” We have covered another three and half thousand miles by car, and god knows how much by air to visit as far north as Karratha, as far East as Alice Springs and as far south as Esperance. The tour has taken us from the hedonistic nightlife of Kalgoorlie to the gentle rolling vineyards of Margaret River. (From Skimpys to wrinklies). There are places I would have liked to have stayed longer and places were one night was too long, but everywhere I went I got some truly fantastic audiences, so thank you.

I trust you are all enjoying your festive season. For those of you reading this in Australia/New Zealand, you ought to know that last night the temperature in Edinburgh dropped to -8. If you’re not sure what that feels like, put your hand in the freezer for 5 minutes, then rub that hand all over your body (don’t do it to someone else without their expressed permission).

And a very warm welcome to my new website. I can’t take all or indeed any of the credit for it. The opening page is what they call a ‘flash page’ which allows the viewer to click on things and watch things happen. I’m sure you’ll work it all out long before I do. I hope you like it, and welcome any suggestions, ideas you would like to see on it. I personally have requested that the beautiful beach scenery slowly changes in line with the gradual destruction of the environment. I thought it might be nice to highlight the cause by showing over time a darkening of the skies and muddying of the waters due to pollution, the gradual eclipsing of the beach due to the polar ice caps melting and the odd beached whale which you click on and oil spurts out of its gills. So, for the time being the image will remain purposefully upbeat, and pretty, but it’s up to all of us to keep it that way….