We were welcomed to the weird and wonderful world of Ross Noble's head.

It was a land decorated by eerie flora, startling fauna and fluffy white clouds projected on to a deep blue sky.

Actually, whether the strange stage furniture was supposed to reflect Noble's innermost thoughts was a moot point - the comic didn't mention it once.

The superbly funny comedian was far too busy bantering with his audience and making hilarious off-the-cuff remarks to waste time talking about his expensive-looking props.

After being introduced by an angry, green cartoon slug - again, for no apparent reason - Noble bounded on stage and, within seconds, his slightly de-railed train of thought was off and running.

The pattern of the night was soon established with some gentle teasing of late-comers to the show.

To give some idea of Noble's talents, this flowed smoothly into discussions about (deep breath) bear traps, blood banks, stage buffets, being in disguise, Hawaiian shirts, Magnum PI, dancing fork-lift drivers, blind people, being patronised by ten-year-olds and jumpers made from floss.

All this was covered in the first five minutes of the show.

Some comics have chemistry with their audience, Noble is an alchemist - transforming the base metal of boring, mundane aspects of life into golden comic observations.

Almost all his material began in the heads of the paying punters. Noble simply acted as a comic funnel, into which everyone's thoughts and suggestions were poured and a rich, comic broth was brewed.

During a mammoth show lasting more than two hours, there might have been three occasions where Noble relied on pre-prepared material.

You could see him seven times in a week-long run and never get bored - a compliment which can be reserved for very few comedians in the world.

Interestingly, his performance at the Dome Concert Hall took place at the same time as Eddie Izzard entertained at the Brighton Centre.

The two men plough the same funny fields of observational humour but the cross-dressing comic just can't hold a candle to the Geordie genius at the height of his powers. Much of Izzard's material seems too calculated to be truly irreverent these days, while Noble's success is his spontaneity.

His razor-sharp wit carves the northerner an edge in the battle to be Britain's best stand-up act.