Right, said I. Let us coast to the nearest coast at Felixstowe and work our way through the new places. Much like Aldeburgh last year, we'll see how many we can tick off in one afternoon. First, though, gotta pedal there.

Hello to the heart-bothering Holeshot, salutations to the steady Stables and -- after a lengthy diversion down an official Quiet Lane from Waldringfield to Newbourne -- a nod to nifty Nourish. Spotted a sign to the sumptuous Smokehouse, over the A12 bridge to emerge near the Sausage Shop, my local (Ipswich, Suffolk) merguez supplier, and carried on through the Trimleys. Said a brief prayer to the abiding Angel, a what's-up to the chill Cuppa and, wiping our brows, arrived.

Trouble at mill -- it's not been a good work week -- but at least Andy's visibly moving on FindMyFriends and offering to drive the pair of us somewhere for a bite. Biking sweatily over to Felixstowe a few weeks back, I'd eyeballed a new one for the list. Allons-y.

Arrayed on top of each other on the A1156 (just past the Seven Hill cemetery) are a trio of signs:

• (black on white) Levington and Marina
• (white on brown) The Ship Inn with cutlery symbol
• (black on yellow) Stack area

That brightly coloured final one points the way to the old Felixstowe Road, the one your ma and pa would have taken in their Triumph Toledo prior to the pervasive A14. This literal backroad includes a mile of dual carriageway. Pre London Olympics, circa 2012, you'd have found the Doubledeck Diner here. Now we find the comparatively less mobile T's Bar complete with hanging baskets, union flag and a portaloo, my-my.

Tracy's got it going on with her craftily adapted caravan. Wooden steps lead to the open doorway. To the left, comfy seating and a telly. To the right, the kitchen. Further right are more tables in a room bedecked with what? Fast cars? Nope. Inspirational views? Nope. Buddhas? Yep. Anyway, what form of all-day breakfast would you like? Takes our orders, does Tracy, and we grab some high seats outside.

No packs of hyena drifting regally across the savannah -- more distant views of long-distance DAFs -- but at least we're in the sun, and man, it's hot. First up, Andy's breakfast bap. Burger and bacon and sausage and egg: that's giving our boy three meals in one. My ham egg 'n' chips is, I like to think, more modest yet still fills a large plate. Fills one of Bernard Cribbins' holes and then some. Given their current planning permission spat, dunno if T's will endure. Nobody else is offering that service there so best of luck to 'em.

If it was a car -- DAF CF.
If they were passing by -- Donald Gee.

No longer a fresher after last year, I'm now a McSophomore. Friend Adam, by comparison, is a frequent flyer to the Fringe. Twenty years back he saw the Mighty Boosh before they even settled on that name. Didn't much like them but that ain't the point. He was there.

Weather forecast awful, it's the traditional 7:30am departure from England's book town then M6 / A74(M) / A701 and straight on to the Straiton park & ride. Tip of the tam to Lothian Buses for going contactless. First location confirmed and tickets printed -- the whole enterprise, leaflets and all, must account for a forest the size of Wales -- there's ample time for a large white and something sweet at the conveniently sited Richmond Cafe. Bite of baklava for him, gargantuan galaktoboureko for me, both bathing in the unpredicted Old Smoky sun.

(12:00) Gethin Alderman is: Sublime at Just The Tonic at The Charteris Centre
We were warned off the evil lemon. We gave careful thought to our favourite varieties of orange. We gawped at a pomelo. We were warned about mixing prescription drugs with grapefruit. We conga-ed. And we followed the fall and rise of young Regis. I had something in my eye at the end though that could have been the limey water. The character played by Orson Welles in The Third Man would have approved.

(14:25) Butterbum, J at theSpace @ Surgeons Hall, Haldane Theatre
Glacial queueing in the packed Pleasance Courtyard eventually yielded a pair of messy burritos. Kudos to Adam for choosing, as accompaniment, a citrus-based Sprite. Hauled ourselves to the Haldane for some actual the-a-tre and a lad on a bridge being harangued by a jaunty crow. What's in the box? What does the "J" stand for? Snappy production and sweet singing from the unexpectedly youthful cast of the Stargaze theatre.

(16:10) Wil Greenway: The Ocean After All at Underbelly, Bristo Square, Dexter
Fortified by peppermint tea and a chai latte at non-Potter Elephants & Bagels, down to the soporific depths of Dexter for one of last year's personal highlights: Wil Greenway, "writer, performer, failure machine" and over fifty percent hair. A salty bottle, a runaway Holden Gemini, VB stubbies, countless coconuts and the eye of a whale. What just happened? Note: excellent loos.

(18:00) Milton Jones: Milton Impossible at Assembly Hall, Mound Place
Enough messing around with tiny performance spaces. Over to The Mound to "the most prestigious venue on the Fringe". Joined a sizeable snaking queue to pile into the 840 seater main hall. Continuing the fruity theme, a small man in bright orange ambled on to the stage to deliver some highly crafted wordplay. Why did he lose his job as an MI6 interrogator? "I like to defy the odds," he said, and I laughed out loud. Shame about Adam's restricted view.

(20:40) The Establishment: Le Bureau de Strange at Heroes @ The Hive, The Bunka
Seven pm, sat on The Royal Mile to watch coaches of tattoists with the sky darkening. Ducked into a Subway for a six-inch tuna sub and a solid roof. The rain it raineth. Unanimously decided to take a chance on one last show. Into the bowels of Niddry Street. Chose seats next to two reserved places little knowing that Godfrey and Cecil would be sat next to us. Too much? Who thinks we've started? An absurd start with Gethin. An absurd end with The Establishment. Who thinks we've finished? Ra-ra-ra! Note: horrible loos.

...and still missed Javaad Alipoor, Spencer Jones and Lucy Pearman.

Waiting patiently for a bus, Adam pointed to a discarded lime on the pavement. Number 37 eventually came. Unfortunate that it was already full. Caught the tardy 47 standing near the boxes of fruit outside the Bismillah Food Store on Nicolson Square. At Abington services, my large Starbucks £3.39 latte (proferred through the hatch) was timed at 23:59:27. Huge thanks to the driver.

I've been away. Denmark, if you're asking, the land of Danny Kaye (d.1987). Andy's been away too. Greece, if you're asking, the land of Demis Roussos (d.2015). Kev's unavailable, pursuing his quest to become a late blooming chess grandmaster, hence today's two-handed outing. Took our eye off the Felixstowe light lunch scene only for half a dozen new and/or revitalised places to flower. Best we start eating into that list.

Digging through the digital archives, I see mention of fancy dress outfitter Chuckles in my review of the Walton Coffee House. Not only is WCH sadly gone, but Chuckles has giggled its last Branagh-esque titter. Here now is the colourful Cuppa offering gelato "from London's Borough Market" and "tea / coffee / cake / cool vibes". Don't want to give away the ending but it's all true. Their vibes -- and I've refrained from making an obscure Bonzo Dog reference here -- are indeed cool.

Smiling Sarah's happy to gather an assortment of (very reasonably priced) savoury goodies for us to share including focaccia, dippy oil, olives, vegan sausage roll, houmous and some misleadingly coloured Pipers crisps. We'll leave that comfy looking sofa for others to enjoy and take our salty snacks to the mezzanine among the Bowie posters, original artwork and books to browse. Large bay window here with a pleasing draught and a WiFi router. Sip of raspberry Fentimans, nibble of tasty bread: very agreeable.

There's more cakes in the display cabinet than on my mum's Facebook feed. Hi Mum! Lavender biscuits, assorted slices, Guinness cake, et cetera. Excellent slice of vegan carrot cake for yours truly with a vg flat white. Had to interrupt Andy's conversation with his old boss -- retired 23 years, his boss that is, not Andy -- to get his order for millionaire's shortbread and a spicy chai tea. Makes a change to be eating stuff this sweet and tasty on a Wednesday. Gotta go, I said, reminding Andy once more that some of us still gotta work. Shame. Anyway, go get a Cuppa.

If it was a car -- CUPRA Formentor Concept Car.
If they were passing by -- Eva Herzigova.