VISITORS to the Edinburgh Festival this summer were confronted by giant posters of one of the best-loved comedians on the Fringe. "Tim Vine ," it screamed in letters several feet high, "is not appearing at this year's Festival."

It was an inspired move and gained Tim a lot of very favourable coverage.

"The Sunday Times said give that man five stars' and called it the Best Joke of the Fringe 2006," beams the hugely likeable comedian over a mid-morning cup of coffee.

"It cost me fortune to hire those billboards, but I got five stars and it was still cheaper than actually putting on a show!"

This is typical of Tim, a comedian with an immensely appealing sense of humour. Tall and chiselled with a wave of blond hair, Tim thinks that his concentration on pure entertainment is one of the secrets of his success.

"In the current climate, a lot of comedians are doing heavy political stuff. So my one-liners - like "Velcro, what a rip-off!" - are a welcome antidote.

"I can't really intersperse daft jokes like lambs were £20, now they're £10 - sheep at half the price' with, what about Iraq, eh?' Still, I do get a laugh when in the middle of lots of one-liners, I say, and now politics. Tony Blair?', and then just tut. That's as heavy and political as it gets with me!"

Tim, who won the Perrier Best Newcomer Award at the Edinburgh Festival in 1995, emphasises that his approach is not a deliberate reaction to the earnestness of political comedy.

"It's just that I spent my entire childhood during the 1970s listening to comedians who just did straight jokes," recollects Tim, who made a splash as one of the ensemble in ITV1's Bafta-winning series, The Sketch Show.

"People like Les Dawson, Frankie Howerd and Morecambe and Wise were steeped in gags, although sadly they're not generating any new material now! My stuff is automatically silly. I don't have to stop myself doing heavy stuff. It's not a response to Blair out' comedy.

"I like watching angry ranters as much as anyone, but when I'm on stage it's just not my thing. I don't like the right-on worthiness of constantly knocking the Daily Mail because," he adds, genetically unable to resist a gag, "I quite like its crossword!"

One of the reasons Tim's act works so well is that it has a cumulative effect. "Part of what I do onstage is build momentum," observes the comedian, who was born in Cheam in Surrey. "I've heard it described as individual snowflakes that combine to form an avalanche. In there, I also have one or two fairly sturdy snowballs that stand up for themselves!"

But Tim, whose brother is the Radio 2 presenter Jeremy, also has the knack of cleverly interrupting the stream of one-liners with other elements. "You have to break it up," confirms the comedian, "or it genuinely does people's heads in. So I do comic songs, too. Don't worry - I'm not going to try to sing anything serious like Fly Me to the Moon. They're all jokey!"

The other great strength of Tim's act is that it is completely clean. "It's not meant to be a statement," reflects the comic, who is wearing a black jacket and blue jeans. "If I stub my toe, I swear as much as the next person.

"But I like the idea of looking out at an audience and seeing a mixture of ages."

The comic has stuck with his trademark style through thick and thin - and it has paid off in spades. "When I started out on the circuit in 1993, one-liners were not in the least bit fashionable. But I kept plugging away and now, I'm very glad to say, silliness is in again."

Tim, who has a phenomenal memory for gags and reckons he has at least 500 at his disposal, recently hit the headlines when he entered the Guinness Book of Records by breaking the previous world best for the number of jokes told in one hour - 362 by an Estonian comic called Erci Kolu - with 499 jokes in one hour. Then eight months ago an Aussie comedian beat it. Tim says: "What on earth was he doing - a succession of animal noises? I was disappointed at first, but now I'm quite relieved I don't hold it because it can be a rod for your own back."

At Christmas, Tim will be exercising yet another set of muscles when he appears opposite Aled Jones, John Challis and Sue Holderness in Jack and the Beanstalk at the Richmond Theatre.

"I'm playing Jack's brother, and I'm guessing he's stupid. The clue's in the name - he's called Silly Billy!

"Last year I did Cinderella at the Wimbledon and it was terrific fun. It's amazing to play to 1,200 people and just muck about. It's quite a tough schedule, but let's face it, it's not coal-mining."

For the time being, though, Tim is focusing entirely on Current Puns. He just can't wait to get out on the road.

He enthuses: "Touring is the most wonderful experience. You turn up at a theatre and 300 people who you know already like your stuff come to watch you.

"What in the world could be better than that?"

Tim plays Salisbury City Hall on Tuesday. Tickets, priced £14, from the box office on 01722 434 434.