Allotment

Actually finding your way to Inverleith Allotments, where Allotment is set, might be tricky (if you get lost, just follow the stately spires of Fettes College). But once you're safely ensconced in this serene enclosure in Edinburgh's genteel New Town, you might never want to leave again. Greeted at the gates with a mug of tea and a scone—slathered with butter and homemade plum jam—it's a bit like being welcomed into a favourite grandparent's home, only outside.

The audience is led down a narrow garden path and seated cosily around an allotment-cum-stage, before Jules Horne's charming two-hander begins. It lasts a little over half an hour but paints a detailed portrait of a loving yet bitter relationship between two sisters. We follow them from childhood to older age, witnessing kiddish pranks and serious life-changing moments, all of which unfold as they sow and till their family allotment.

Actors Nicola Jo Cully and Pauline Goldsmith are completely at home in this unusual theatrical setting, rustling up bushes of mint and lavender to awaken our senses. Their tendency to strongly emphasise their actions can be a little grating, but with the Edinburgh wind ever-ready to whip their words into oblivion, over-animation feels like something of a necessity in these environs. By turns sweet and chilling, it neatly ties in its themes of life and death with the growing vegetation that surrounds us, without being heavy-handed. And in such a scenic outdoor location, Allotment is certainly one of the most treasurable sensory experiences on offer at this year's Fringe – at least, when the rain stays away.