A Walk At The Edge Of The World

In Edinburgh during the festival season, walking can be a less-than-edifying undertaking. When you have to climb over four jugglers just to get your morning sausage roll, the simple pleasures of the stroll can get lost. A Walk At The Edge Of The World is a reclamation and consideration of those pleasures. As such, in both distance and tone, it exists far away from the neverending Fringe bustle.

In 2001, following a hip operation to address the arthritis that had almost robbed him of mobility, Ian Cameron began to walk again. Relearning what was previously an unconscious activity caused him to think about walking differently, triggering a very personal journey. Before he explains this to the audience however, Cameron allows them to take journeys of their own.

Beginning in the eerily peaceful grounds of the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, Cameron leads the audience in a silent procession along the Water of Leith Walkway, taking full, unashamed advantage of Edinburgh's beauty. A green-gold marvel in sunlight and a goblin forest in gloom, the walk will be a revelation to those who have never seen this side of the city before.

Of course, such a walk could be enjoyed without a ticket to A Walk At The Edge Of The World. The presentation Cameron gives back at the museum is therefore thankfully engaging, built around the fascinating tale of Donald Crowhurst—who went mad while sailing around the world—and a moving reflection on Cameron's own life. A worthy exercise in contemplation.