The day after leaving London I found myself Leaving Planet Earth in the company of three busloads of theatregoers attending an EIF hot ticket event from Edinburgh's Gridiron Theatre.

Fitted with electronic wristbands we were playing the part of migrants from a dying Earth to New Earth where humanity would have a second chance.  Our on-board mentor with due seriousness filled us in on what was to come and equally serious videos built up an appropriate atmosphere.  Here's one of them.

We debussed at the Edinburgh International Climbing Arena where we were to go through the New Earth acclimatisation process.  We were led through this amazing building from one little vignette to another culminating in a bit of son et lumiere in the main arena.

It's a wonderful show which must have taken an extraordinary amount of work to develop.  Reading the programme you learn about the technological collaboration with universities and business in its development never mind the theatrical challenges.

I enjoyed the various bits and pieces but the illusion was constantly broken for me every time we moved from A to B, while a friend declared it to be the greatest immersive theatrical experience he had ever experienced.  Immersed to what end?  I suppose there is a bit of a message in that you see a hint that the wonderful future is going to repeat the errors of the past but on the whole I can't see it as more than a very elaborate children's game.  But then I'm no fan of Dr Who.

The Book Festival has been going for 30 years but until yesterday I had never attended any of its events. I heard three authors talking about their books

Alexandria by Peter Stothard - about the city, about Cleopatra and about the author - recently serialised on radio 4 some of which I had heard.

The Robber of Memories by Michael Jacobs - a dangerous journey up a Colombian river full of encounters with fascinating people.

The Golden Thread by Ewan Clayton -  writing and human civilisation by a calligrapher and former monk - Tom Gourdie didn't have enough time with me at KHS to do much for my handwriting but his calligraphic skills and knowledge influenced Mr Clayton.

The problem with the Book Festival is that having spent a tenner on a talk you are sorely tempted to lash out 25 quid or so on the book.  I'm resisting.  Either wait for the paperback or rely on the library.

In between books I was entertained by Worbey and Farrell who play duets and throw in a bit of comedy.  That description sorely undervalues their show.  It's terrific.

There was more music to end the day at The Okavango Macbeth.  This has all the simplicity, imagination, creativity, artistic and emotional impact that gets five stars in my book.  See it if you can.