Adversity - Ssrienna's Story Part 2

By Jan Uzzel (Ssrienna)

Friday

And the Con changed! It started normally. I actually got up at 0700 and went swimming (as I promised my self I’d try to do for all of the on!). Then went back up to shower and go for breakfast. I thought I’d put the bath mat close enough to the shower door, but as I put my left foot out, my wet heel touched tile and – whoosh - I was on the floor!

I think the only reason I didn’t do more damage, is that I’m cautious getting out of strange showers and had hold of the shower frame. So instead of hitting my head, I clipped my right shin on the upright (very colourful bruising), banged & wrenched knee on shower step, wrenched hip and hit left side (another colourful bruise, which I didn’t discover until Sat morning) and clipped left elbow.

After teaching the bathroom a few choice Anglo-Saxon phrases (some of which I’d forgotten I knew), I checked that there was nothing broken, crawled upright, got dressed and “Went to Ops” … very slowly!

Donal was on duty and, Angel of Mercy that he is, swooped and made satisfactorily impressed noises of concern. Unfortunately his 1^st Aid bags were on a side trip of their own, having decided to pay the extra to see the luggage fleshpots of Gatwick airport, so he was with out cold packs. One call to the Hotel 1^st Aiders later and I had ice in a napkin on the bruising.

Donal was just trying to work out how to do his job, while holding an ice pack to my leg, when the 2^nd Angel of Mercy appeared. Henry Proctor had arrived and, discovering that Registration wasn’t open yet, had come to Ops to volunteer his services as a gopher. Donal recruited him gleefully as my “Ice Pack Holder”. They then discovered that I had not had breakfast, at which 3 Committee members asked what I wanted!

So one of the more surreal memories I have from this Con is being served a full English breakfast, with orange juice and tea, in Ops with a young man holding an ice pack to my leg!

Donal had also recommended that I go to A&E just to check that the knee and hip weren’t damaged more than just wrenched. The hotel paid for a taxi there & back again and Henry kindly accompanied me there (Solihull A&E). We were in and out in about 2 hours, clutching some heavy-duty painkillers – nothing broken or dislocated - huzzah!

I also had a crutch to use – which was a lifesaver. Although, I threatened so many people at the Guild Fayre, where I was the Stunt Double for my illustrious and talented Guild Deputy (Essy) who was at RHDS rehearsals, that the Watch made me have a Watch tag (i.e. “This crutch is harmless. It’s owner, however, we make no promises regarding” – thanks Jenny!)

What I remember about the rest of Friday, apart from the opening Ceremony, which was fun, is catching up with a lot of friends – Lottie (who became my personal gopher for the Con – thanks again!), Gemma, Dom, Mole, Lisa (CCA), Gideon, Jenny, Rgemini, Eric, Adrian, Gid & Suzi, Ali from #afp, Kerry Ann, Essy, Xris and lots more and making new friends – all of whom were considerate and kind about the injury and suitably impressed with the bruises and description!

I also made sure that I was registered for Maskerade, got to see the Audience with Stephen Briggs (complete with the Princess Bride sword – drool!) which was wonderful, and attended the afternoon at the Ankh-Morpork Palladium (which I was unable to participate in as I’d stupidly left the words to Lisa’s filk in my room) but the ladies who did take part were FABULOUS (Jacqui, Lady Pinque, Essy, and someone who did Magrat, whose name I didn’t catch).

I also hobbled to Once More with Feeling, where I met Eric, Stu, Edmund, Gid and other talented musicians whose names I didn’t catch for a most enjoyable singing session. Runesmith sang a brilliant D&D inspired song “My gods’ better than your gods” and they indulged my requests to sing “Bonny Black Hare” and a Tom Leherer song “I hold your hand in mine”. Off to bed at gone 0200, tired but very happy!

We’re not doing too bat...

Saturday evening, 18 people and two bat detectors went on an expedition to that distant land called “outside the hotel,” looking for bats. Biologist Gwen and bat enthusiast Richard Proctor arranged the walk after discovering Friday that they had both brought their bat detectors with them.

The bat detectors pick up the high-pitched noises the bats use for navigation and turn it into something the human ear can hear. A trained user can determine the species of bat by the pattern of the sounds.

According to Richard Proctor, the best places to find bats are near old trees, and near open water – both of which are present by the hotel. So hopes were high as the bat walkers went out into the night. And they were not disappointed: during the one hour walk, going just around the hotel, the detectors picked up the sounds of 12-20 bats. The participants even saw a few of the bats flying by.

The bats heard during the walk belonged to three different species: Daubenton’s bats, Pippistrelles and a third, unidentified species.

The walk was such a success, the two bat connoisseurs are giving da capo. So if you missed the walk you’ll have the chance tonight at 8 o’clock.

Elias

A Time and Place For Music

Brother Imp would be happy. Even at this late hour, many musical aficionados showed up to sing, declaim poetry, play and sing. We had many good singers and artists. Menno "Flexor" Willemse started off the evening with Jim Croce's "Time in a bottle" and F. Carillo's "Time is a jailer", followed by Julie and Timothy Anderson, who started with "Knocking on Heaven's door". They were followed by the characteristic sound of Eric Jarvis, famous for drowning out, unamplified, a rock band. His act was followed by Añejo, who did a rendition of "Mercedes Benz", followed by a beautiful sea-song, unaccompanied.

But not all was song.

Andrew Brown read a poem about the battle of Hastings, and there was nary a dry eye in the room. His place on the stage was filled, amply, by the lovely Heather, who gave us a smouldering rendition of what is known in places as the "Jessica Rabbit Song". Then, assisted by Mr. Jarvis, Gemma took the stage to sing a haunting song. She was followed by Adrian Ogden who sang an a cappella rendition of "I am the entertainer" and "This is the hardest song in the world to find".

Ali of #afp fame then gave us a song with puns most atrocious, may she be forgiven. Next was Ben of the Green, who employed both expressive choreography and play of the didgeridoo for a surreal tale of the termite kingdom inside the atoms of a table, despite being severely hampered by the length of the microphone cable. Next, Stuart Quinn-Harvie gave us a poem.

After Stuart, Countertony took the stage with something from the classical repertoire. Dave sang a song and gave us a poem, which I believe he wrote himself. Later in the evening, he would write a poem at this very event and recite it, which we may say was above and beyond the call of duty. Jessica then came on and gave us a short story of a humorous nature.

Our other resident countertenor, Megamole, sang a song from Countertony's book, which he had borrowed. Then, Ssirienna gave us a rendition of "The Wild Rover" without which the evening would not have been complete. Many rounds of performance were achieved, and late was the hour when we finally decided that it was a night. It was a good night. After a final pint in the bar, your Compere packed up his belongings, and went to sleep, dreaming not at all.

Flexor

A Story At Bedtime

By far the best bit of the first day of my first convention had to be settling down with the man we had all come to adore, as he read us a bedtime story. Dressed mostly as the characters from our story-teller's books, but also in various nighties and pyjamas with teddy bears tucked under sleepy arms, children young and old filed excitedly into "the Dysk" to listen in rapturous awe as our hero read from his new novel, "The Nation" (not officially released until 11 September).

It sounds quite a dark endeavour compared to some of Terry's tales, and our breaths were simultaneously held as the wave crashed about the tiny island, leaving Mau and Daphne alone, together, but apart. We laughed with relief when the humour returned as Terry read on, and the time hurried by. Where were the history monks tonight? Too busy at the bar one assumes, when the end of the allotted time was reached and neither story- teller, nor (most of) the audience, were prepared to leave.

It was lovely to see that, despite the trouble Terry had with lighting on stage, with his own head casting a shadow across his page, he enjoyed reading to his devoted audience, as much as we enjoyed the precious creation of his new words. He could quite easily have read the whole book tonight, and we would of course have let him, shuffling out in the early hours of the morning as tired messes, but not caring having been able to share the night with our hero.

But forty-five minutes after he should have stopped, Terry suddenly shut the book and told us all in no uncertain terms to "go away". We cheered, we yawned and we left: happy that the great man we have come to love through his writing, loves us in turn so much that he couldn't tear himself away.

And like a kindly grandfather, Terry Pratchett put his charges to bed. (the conventioneers and his book alike).

Sarah Ganderton

Photo: Robert "Otto" Flach

NEWSFLASH! Abbot of Cool found Dead!

The Abbot of the Monks of Cool was found dead today after a meeting with the heads of Guilds. The Watch considers the circumstances suspicious and has opened an investigation.

The Guild heads were interviewed, and an impressive collection of weaponry has been seized. Nevertheless the Watch is baffled. The Patrician has asked the assistance of the Guilds and the public in the investigation.

Join the Murder Mystery! Runs throughout the Convention! Dénouement on Sunday at the pre-Gala cocktails! Registration for teams or individuals (we'll find you a team) in Harga's by the Bookcrossing table, Saturday till 13:30.

-- Newsdesk of the Guild of Assassins School Paper.

From the Wizards

The Wizards of Unseen University are making rapid progress toward
finding a cure for the common hangover (Crapula Horrenda), according
to a report received by the Chronicle.

Several promising lines of investigation are being followed. One
group of wizards are attempting to recreate the hangover cure
developed on Hogswatchnight several years ago, although they are
hampered by a lack of adequate record-keeping on that occasion. An
investigation has been opened into those procedural problems and
should be completed as soon as the Bursar feels better.

According to Nanny and Doctor, the heads of the Guild, another team
of wizards is working its way through the grimoire and the
pharmacopoeia, seeking the right combination of spell and potion to
cure the hangover. Ponder Stibbons has offered to seek help from
Hex, but it is widely felt in the Guild that Meddling With The
Unknown is a job for human beings rather than machines.

Should you meet any wizards in the bar, please feel free to buy us a
drink. You will be assisting in our research and contributing to the
ultimate freeing of the human race from the terrible affliction of
the hangover.

-- Bissonomy, for the Wizards of Unseen University

A Newbie on the Discworld

As completely unseasoned conventioneers it didn't take much salt and pepper to get us in the mood. The minute we walked nervously into reception, greeted by familiar characters we had previously met only in our own imaginations we knew we were in the right place. We couldn’t wait to hurry to our rooms for our own transformation from Roundworld citizens to members of the Discworld.

A quick dab of ketchup and we felt seasoned enough to become our own characters – a teacher in black waistcoat and long black skirt, and a witch in the draughty Halloween costume I had packed at the last minute. Guided by the kind helpful words of a handy gopher when we collected our goodie bags at registration, we joined the 700 other convention attendees at this luxurious Birmingham hotel, to cheer excitedly as a nervous familiar man walked onto stage at the opening ceremony. And yet once he was there he seemed quite at home, forgetting the mike so that we could barely hear him, and asking permission from his documentary team to give away some of their secrets. He chatted about the dreaded illness that we dare not speak its name, before anyone else could ask him about it, and happily swept the stage as the notices were read out by the chap in charge.

What a good job, the history monks had managed to retrieve the weekend so that we were able to enjoy it after all? Or had we already enjoyed it and were afforded the opportunity to do it all again? Perhaps that’s why myself and the 50% of other convention guests who are here for their first Discworld Convention feel so at home: its because in reality we have done it all already. I bet it was good.

Sarah Ganderton

Discworld Convention report the first, and The Hunter

Bright was the morning, light was my heart as I sallied (why is it always Sally? What happened to Wilhelmina? Josephine? Sue?) forth on my way to Croydonish, there to collect Random_C, sinister of this parish, and thence to Hinkley Birmingham for the Discworld convention 2008. Nothing could go wrong. Everything was organised. All was prepared.

Except Random_C, who had lost a corset, and was therefore not packed. The corset she had was not able to allow her to fit into a particular costume. The corset she had, however, had laces. Strong laces. And I was in a hurry. Knee in back, tug, *Squeak*…now Random_C fitted the costume. We’d solve the breathing problem later…

Bright was the mor…um…afternoon. Light was my heart. Blue was Random_C’s complexion as we Josephined forth. Nothing could go wrong. All was organised. Including, it turned out, the 6 ¼ hours worth of accidents, road works and breakdowns. (3 mechanical, and one nervous). The Thursday night pub-quiz therefore didn’t happen to us. Too tired. Home, and bed.

Brigh…oh, you get the idea. Friday morning saw us Wilhelmina forth to the NEC. Nothing could go wr…why did the car not start? Oh…that’d be because having paid a garage incredible quantities of money to fit the second new starter motor in the space of two weeks, they’d forgotten, in their haste to deprive me of enough money to feed and clothe myself for six month, to connect the battery. An easy fix. Only a little blood. I only live 20 minutes away from the NEC. Erm…let me rephrase that. I *would* only live 20 minutes away if the local council had signposted the fact that they had closed the main route from my house to the M6. As it turns out, I live 15 minutes from Bulkington, 22 minutes from Bedworth and 35 minutes from the M6, 45 minutes from the NEC. Where, in our haste to arrive, I discovered that neither of us actually knew where the hell we were going.

Found it! I used the normal method of Discworld event location. Drive around slowly until you spot a number of hotel staff with stunned, glazed and confused looks on their faces, chainsmoking. Bingo! Gosh, innit big?! And posh! A revolving door! A foreign chap who took one look at Random_C and directed us, unasked, to the Discworld registration. Which irked Herself, as she was dressed in her normal day-to-day clothing.

What I love about any Discworld event is the friendship, the companionship, and the coffee. People I have not seen for a year or more amble up and resume the conversation we were having when last we met, as if we’d never been apart. Which is, in a way, true. So many of us converse on the IRC channel every day that we are not so much friends as family.

As an aside, it is a sobering thought. Entirely because of Mr Pratchett’s books several of my friends have met. Heck, the IRC channel was started so that an Antipodean resident could keep in touch with a UKian one. They met, married and became Discworld Convention Committee. There are, to the best of my knowledge, an even dozen children who have happened because of friends of mine being drawn together through a shared love of the books of the Man in the Hat. I wonder what he would think if he knew that?

Coffee was located. Various events were signed up to. I was hugely disappointed to find that Diane and Peter were not to be here. I owe them a huge thanks for being responsible for me getting my first book published, and almost getting my second one out as well. Their Writers Workshops were so very helpful. And I’m sure it wasn’t their fault that my second publisher went bust a week before my book was due to escape…

I *Watch*ed the Opening Ceremony, and was hugely heartened by Terry’s fortitude, optimism and ability to sweep the stage. I cheered at the announcement that he was able to write. I boo’d the fact that he found typing difficult. I laughed at his anecdotes. I cheered the ConCom. I grinned at the idea that 50% of the people present would not know why the first step was *A bit of ane bastard*. And felt a bit old. And I left the ceremony, as always, feeling slightly humbled and hugely privileged to be part of a huge group of like-minded people, brought together by some bloke in a hat with a penchant for carnivorous plants.

The Hunter

The first full day

So, the convention has officially started and this is the first full day. I actually got to a programme item yesterday! - well, OK it was the opening ceremony; the rest of the day was spent catching up with loads of people, some of whom I haven't seen for two years, a few who I haven't seen for somewhat longer. It still feels a bit odd not being involved in the organisation, but I think I'll cope :-)

Looking at the programme for today and there a few items that look interesting - not least of which is the two hour session with Terry in the main room this afternoon. It's great having a main programme room that can accommodate the entire membership.

Anyway, time to go - think I might go to the Troll's Guide for new convention members - I've always wondered what the first-timers were told!

Long day

The flight got in on time but then the traffic made up for it.

For some reason I was diverted off the M42 at junction 4 and then sent into the centre of Birmingham before heading out east to the NEC. It's a good thing I didn't stop or I'd have been returning to Iceland with a pile of fabric from some of the Asian shops I passed.

Then I found that the road I was due to take to the hotel was closed and it took me over half an hour of frustration trying to find the darned place.

But I'm here. It's quite different from an Eastercon. To start with there are far more people in costume than at any con I've ever attended. I'm very glad that I made the effort with costume for tomorrow and Sunday.

The other thing that surprised and delighted me is that there's a games dealer in the dealers' room. I foresee a certain amount of shopping going on over the weekend.

Apart from that I've met up with many friends, officially joined the Seamstresses guild (they tell me I'll score points just for sitting and sewing - ideal!) and discovered that the main bar (not the con bar) does extremely good food. I was quite overfaced by their spaghetti carbonara but it was very tasty.

It has the feel of a very enjoyable con. I'm cretainly looking forward to tomorrow.

Sent með Blackberry frá Vodafone

Minor miracle

I've now made it to Keflavík and, wonder of wonders, the flight has not been delayed. Yet.

It's a toss-up as to whether this flight will be a 7X7 or an MD-82. If it's the latter I'm sure we'll have some paranoid people aboard after the Madrid accident. Not me - I know that the pilots and maintenabce teams will be paranoid for me. :)

The earlier flight was a Dash 8; space for a whole 37 passengers. Normally it's a Fokker 50 but they don't need anything that big for the very early flight.

Ah! It's a 757 - the swept-up wingtips give it away. I can see them loading the luggage (there's a surfboard there!) so I suspect they'll be loading us shortly.

Sent með Blackberry frá Vodafone

Setting off

It's 05:30 and I'm sitting in the departure lounge of Akureyri airport awaiting my internal flight to Keflavík and thence on to Heathrow. I can only do this because it's summer - in winter an early flight means an overnight stay in Reykjavík.

I think I've packed everything. Perhaps most importantly I've remembered the local beer for Steve. If all else fails I can get anything I've forgotten once I'm back in the UK.

Sent með Blackberry frá Vodafone

From the Lobby Lounge

Since I am in a single room which has no internet access, I came down to
the hotel lounge to get on the wireless. I just noticed that Stephen Briggs
is sitting at the next table. I must be in the right place.

From hotel registration, turn around and you'll see the Lobby Lounge. Head
that way and to your right you'll spot the gift shop. Go down that hall and
you will find the restaurant where breakfast is served on your right. I
believe that our room for consuming food and drink while talking is
directly across the hall.

VimesLady, aka Becky