Mark Olver - Ramble On

Mark Olver spends an hour and a half each day searching for naked people on Google Earth – porn’s just too easy these days. Having won the World Cup on Pro Evo 8 with a team of midgets, Olver is living the dream of most adult men. But now he’s reached 33, a time to reflect on life thus far because it was at precisely this age that Jesus popped his clogs and progressed quite a way up the career ladder.

In such times of crisis, many a foolish plan has been enacted to justify a man’s existence. The Harley Davidson garages of this world are a stomping ground for men who don’t know their foot pegs from their saddle bags; we can but wonder where Porsche would be were it not for those who haven’t noticed that all drivers of such cars are arseholes. Mark Olver's response, however, was an altogether more uplifting and purposeful idea that might even have earned him a modicum of respect. He decided to walk from his house in Bristol to Edinburgh this year, a distance of 500 miles – a fact you won’t leave the show ignorant of.

Granted, a long walk is not usually employed as a mine of comic gold, but this is certainly no run of the mill gig. The experience of Olver makes him a well worn trainer in a Festival full of stiff, unbending brogues. His easy, confident audience interaction shuns the more usual arrogant style of other comics, inviting cosy chats about any of the more mundane aspects of life without losing sight of a humourous goal.

Olver’s tale is full of amusingly brash encounters and bizarre observations. Hilarious portents of doom from people as varied as his mate Jon to Noel Edmunds garnish the performance of a true raconteur. Ultimately, this year as with every year, there are few pairs of hands in which you can feel safer at the Edinburgh Fringe, and Olver has again justified his position as one of the more permanent fixtures here.