Birmingham in Retrospect
Anticipating Adelaide
by SherlockfanOctober 24, 2006
As I start packing my yellow BookCrossing tote bag and carefully wrapping my BookCrossing earrings ready for the trip to
Adelaide later this month I think about the recent BCUK UnConvention and remember its delights.
A supportive, non-BookCrossing Mr. Sherlock and I headed for Birmingham. Lugging lots of books on foot to Surbiton station, by rail to Vauxhall, then by underground, we discovered Euston Station had far too many stairs. An impatient crowd on the Euston concourse awaited platform details; they eventually appeared about 6 minutes before the train was scheduled, starting a torrent of cases, trundlers, backpacks and humans. It was no fun jostling one’s own luggage while avoiding others alongside a very long train, everyone anxious and hot. Following our departure we learned that the air-conditioning in our carriage (and only in our carriage) was not working. During the long excessively hot trip a guard did come in with bottles of water for each wilting passenger.
Once the train drew in to Birmingham New Street Station, we climbed limply into a taxicab and headed for “Express by Holiday Inn” in Lionel Street. Flopping onto the beds in our room, and diverted by World Cup enthusiasm, we watched Germany beat Argentina on penalties. When we went downstairs to the hotel lobby a group of TV watchers looked as if they could all be BookCrossers. We sidled along the edge feeling shy and very far from home.
The atmosphere in the lobby changed when the familiar Skyring arrived, moving around, hugging as he went. Some folk he already knew. Others soon became friends after receiving a massive hug. He spotted us looking awkward, rushed across with arms outstretched and we were quickly welcomed into the group.
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Early arrivals in the city gradually gathered in the hotel lobby after they had meandered around, having coffee and checking out Hudsons, the venue for two author addresses next day. Many people had used a plethora of messages on BCUK Yahoo to prearrange dinner groups and they soon set off. Who can forget UrbanSpaceman with telegraph cucumber, thrust aloft like a Japanese tour guide’s umbrella, rallying the vegetarian group?
Long distance travellers had been invited to join caffcaff, Molyneux, NetStation, ozone-nut, and rahar109, at an undisclosed destination. Together with Skyring, we all gathered in the Après Bar to await the arrival of SirRoy and Gizmopuddy, whose flight from Dublin had been delayed. As drinks flowed freely and World Cup fans anticipated the evening’s match, the noise from a very boisterous crowd was deafening. I felt relieved to move into the peaceful open air when the Irish contingent arrived.
Molyneux and caffcaff led our group, meandering in a curious way, through strange byways and under a motorway until we arrived at Athens, a Greek restaurant.
We had a wonderful evening: vibrant BookCrossers, an abundance of delicious food and some special moments. When bookczuk and MartiP called from USA, Skyring’s cellphone was passed among us, and we each had a few moments of transatlantic chat. Such a nice surprise gesture.
Many of Athens’ patrons were groups of women having “bachelorette” parties so the air was full of shrieks and giggles, soon exaggerated as the in-house belly dancer made her appearance. She went from table-top to table-top cajoling one person from each group to dance with her. Our Molyneux was persuaded upward bringing great credit to BookCrossers as she joined in a spirited belly dance.
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In a moment of solitude Skyring was observed sitting on the floor between tables writing up his journal. Later we all joined in a long Greek dance inside and outside, culminating in much breaking of plates. I even brought a small piece home with me as a souvenir.
As we ambled back to the hotel Skyring topped off an unforgettable evening, gifting a packet of his notorious TimTams to a group of highly charged-up pre-wedding fellow-diners waiting nearby for a bus.
The UnCon arrangements on Saturday were excellent. The venue was ideal - spacious with plenty of seating, good indoor/outdoor flow and a private bar with an endless supply of chilled water, and other temptations. There were tables bulging with books surrounded by frantic rummagers thinking about their wish-lists, trying not to be diverted, but frequently succumbing to an irresistible title. A well stocked BookCrossing supplies stall arranged by caffcaff and capably managed by her BigBoss was a welcome new venture. It was very clear that behind the scenes a humongous amount of organization had taken place and I was very surprised to learn that the group responsible for the arrangements had not physically met together before the weekend.
The decision that attendees register for goodie bags and be allocated a name for whom they would prepare a goodie bag in secret worked well. It was a huge surprise to me to be given a goodie bag with my name on – coming from so far away I’d opted not to enter. I was thrilled by someone’s generosity.
A Sudoku competition was very up to the minute and kept Mr. Sherlock really entertained. Using the word ‘BookCrossing’ instead of numbers 1 to 9 added an extra challenge especially with so many “o”s in the word. SirRoy completed his entry in eleven minutes, which baffled the rest of the entrants and left them envious. Would an Irishman cheat? Never, but eleven minutes?
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Sarah from BagBooks, the UnCon’s 2006 charity, was an able representative. Her vibrant demonstration of two of the tactile stories BagBooks developed for their clients who can’t read as we all do was truly inspirational. A raffle and tombola with numerous prizes attracted a lot of attention and resulted in a donation of about £600 to BagBooks.
The atmosphere was electric with excited greetings as people spotted nametags with names they’d only seen electronically before. I welcomed three cries of
“Oh! You are Sherlockfan. I’ve got a book for you.” In preparation for such moments I had charged my digital camera battery and prepared a small album with copies of emails from BC-ers I specially wanted to meet. There were pages for photos and spaces for people to write notes. This album is now a treasure containing a wealth of mementos of old friends and new. Would that there had been time to meet all the enthusiastic BookCrossers.
Hungry folk bought lunch tickets from the upstairs bar choosing from a variety of barbecued meals. Keen chefs operated a continuous barbecue downstairs beside the venue; tickets were swapped for plates of food that we took back upstairs to eat in comfort. This arrangement worked really well; the organisers had chosen a venue adjoining another operation so food and chefs were readily available and happy to cooperate.
Around 3 p.m., the raffle was drawn and people dispersed with high hopes of England winning another World Cup match. Some gathered back at the hotel lobby for drinks and there were whoops and cheers, first of anticipation and then of despair. Others, like us, went to their rooms for peace and quiet. While England played its way to oblivion, I reviewed the contents of my surprise goodie bag, developing ideas for NZ’s Convention in February 2007.
After the football debacle we returned to the lobby. Disappointment reigned. One group of watchers hoped to drown their sorrows by watching a new Doctor Who programme while others wanted to mourn in quiet. Dr. Who fans raced for the lifts when the TV was switched off. But there were too many for the small lift. It jammed. Ten people including our Gizmopuddy and BigBoss were trapped in stifling heat. It was an hour before the fire department responded to urgent calls and released these wilting folk from their cramped prison.
Meanwhile marvellous, warm Molyneux and UrbanSpaceman shepherded a group together and we headed past a picturesque canal, somewhat spoiled by a bedraggled semi-naked impromptu bather, towards a Balti restaurant, leaving caffcaff behind awaiting her husband’s release from the lift.
There was a wide variety on the Balti curry menu with the number of chiles clearly marking degrees of heat, but it offered very few mild dishes. My chicken khorma was mild but Mr. Sherlock’s fish choice was much hotter than the same dish in New Zealand. The Peshwari naan bread made with coconut milk was of interest to me - it was a new and delicious taste. Both the Peshwari naan and an accompanying plain naan were the most enormous I have ever seen, at least 50 centimeters across.
Special memories from that dinner table were Mytilus, our noted Marine Biologist, eloquently quoting John Donne across the table towards my dish of chicken Khorma, and TutleyMutley placidly knitting a very lengthy unidentifiable something as she waited for her meal.
On the walk back to the hotel we passed a riotous café. Patrons were celebrating France’s World Cup win – an event especially pleasing for me thinking of our half French family. Our group was lured by Firedragon to ride a Ferris wheel where we were rewarded with fine starlight views. Birmingham was booming that night.
After Sunday morning’s leisurely breakfast we watched the awesome organisation of cartons of books into carefully catalogued selections for distribution during the city release walk. Lists, maps, and papers to record release spots had all been prepared and were attached to each selection. As people waited for instructions there were fond hugs, subdued sniffles and farewells. The lobby rang with cries.
“Hasn’t it been great?”
“We’ll be back next year.”
“Don’t forget London in 2008.”
We did not participate in the release walk because we’d been warned about difficulties and delays travelling on British Rail on a Sunday and were anxious to get underway. I joined the large group of LiveJournalers to be photographed on the steps in front of the hotel with the irrepressible Skyring prostrate along the footpath at our feet.
Our train timetable was out of date and we had an hour’s wait at the station but at least it was cool. There were numerous delays on the tiresome trip home; in many places the train just crept along because heat was buckling the rails in a dangerous fashion. We finally trudged the last short distance to the Surbiton flat through the start of yet another heat wave. We were happy and content, accompanied by about 15 books and wonderful memories.
It was comforting to know that I already had tickets for the Australian convention in Adelaide in October and a reservation at a Backpackers hostel. What will it be like? There is nothing surer than the venues will be filled with like-minded, book-loving people and wonderful enticing books. I’m keen to put faces to well-known BookCrossing names and eager to meet even more BookCrossers. My camera battery is charged; my expectations are high. I love conventions.
A supportive, non-BookCrossing Mr. Sherlock and I headed for Birmingham. Lugging lots of books on foot to Surbiton station, by rail to Vauxhall, then by underground, we discovered Euston Station had far too many stairs. An impatient crowd on the Euston concourse awaited platform details; they eventually appeared about 6 minutes before the train was scheduled, starting a torrent of cases, trundlers, backpacks and humans. It was no fun jostling one’s own luggage while avoiding others alongside a very long train, everyone anxious and hot. Following our departure we learned that the air-conditioning in our carriage (and only in our carriage) was not working. During the long excessively hot trip a guard did come in with bottles of water for each wilting passenger.
Once the train drew in to Birmingham New Street Station, we climbed limply into a taxicab and headed for “Express by Holiday Inn” in Lionel Street. Flopping onto the beds in our room, and diverted by World Cup enthusiasm, we watched Germany beat Argentina on penalties. When we went downstairs to the hotel lobby a group of TV watchers looked as if they could all be BookCrossers. We sidled along the edge feeling shy and very far from home.
The atmosphere in the lobby changed when the familiar Skyring arrived, moving around, hugging as he went. Some folk he already knew. Others soon became friends after receiving a massive hug. He spotted us looking awkward, rushed across with arms outstretched and we were quickly welcomed into the group.
align ="left" border="5">Early arrivals in the city gradually gathered in the hotel lobby after they had meandered around, having coffee and checking out Hudsons, the venue for two author addresses next day. Many people had used a plethora of messages on BCUK Yahoo to prearrange dinner groups and they soon set off. Who can forget UrbanSpaceman with telegraph cucumber, thrust aloft like a Japanese tour guide’s umbrella, rallying the vegetarian group?
Long distance travellers had been invited to join caffcaff, Molyneux, NetStation, ozone-nut, and rahar109, at an undisclosed destination. Together with Skyring, we all gathered in the Après Bar to await the arrival of SirRoy and Gizmopuddy, whose flight from Dublin had been delayed. As drinks flowed freely and World Cup fans anticipated the evening’s match, the noise from a very boisterous crowd was deafening. I felt relieved to move into the peaceful open air when the Irish contingent arrived.
Molyneux and caffcaff led our group, meandering in a curious way, through strange byways and under a motorway until we arrived at Athens, a Greek restaurant.
We had a wonderful evening: vibrant BookCrossers, an abundance of delicious food and some special moments. When bookczuk and MartiP called from USA, Skyring’s cellphone was passed among us, and we each had a few moments of transatlantic chat. Such a nice surprise gesture.
Many of Athens’ patrons were groups of women having “bachelorette” parties so the air was full of shrieks and giggles, soon exaggerated as the in-house belly dancer made her appearance. She went from table-top to table-top cajoling one person from each group to dance with her. Our Molyneux was persuaded upward bringing great credit to BookCrossers as she joined in a spirited belly dance.
align ="right" border="5">In a moment of solitude Skyring was observed sitting on the floor between tables writing up his journal. Later we all joined in a long Greek dance inside and outside, culminating in much breaking of plates. I even brought a small piece home with me as a souvenir.
As we ambled back to the hotel Skyring topped off an unforgettable evening, gifting a packet of his notorious TimTams to a group of highly charged-up pre-wedding fellow-diners waiting nearby for a bus.
The UnCon arrangements on Saturday were excellent. The venue was ideal - spacious with plenty of seating, good indoor/outdoor flow and a private bar with an endless supply of chilled water, and other temptations. There were tables bulging with books surrounded by frantic rummagers thinking about their wish-lists, trying not to be diverted, but frequently succumbing to an irresistible title. A well stocked BookCrossing supplies stall arranged by caffcaff and capably managed by her BigBoss was a welcome new venture. It was very clear that behind the scenes a humongous amount of organization had taken place and I was very surprised to learn that the group responsible for the arrangements had not physically met together before the weekend.
The decision that attendees register for goodie bags and be allocated a name for whom they would prepare a goodie bag in secret worked well. It was a huge surprise to me to be given a goodie bag with my name on – coming from so far away I’d opted not to enter. I was thrilled by someone’s generosity.
A Sudoku competition was very up to the minute and kept Mr. Sherlock really entertained. Using the word ‘BookCrossing’ instead of numbers 1 to 9 added an extra challenge especially with so many “o”s in the word. SirRoy completed his entry in eleven minutes, which baffled the rest of the entrants and left them envious. Would an Irishman cheat? Never, but eleven minutes?
align ="right" border="5" height="180" width="240">Sarah from BagBooks, the UnCon’s 2006 charity, was an able representative. Her vibrant demonstration of two of the tactile stories BagBooks developed for their clients who can’t read as we all do was truly inspirational. A raffle and tombola with numerous prizes attracted a lot of attention and resulted in a donation of about £600 to BagBooks.
The atmosphere was electric with excited greetings as people spotted nametags with names they’d only seen electronically before. I welcomed three cries of
“Oh! You are Sherlockfan. I’ve got a book for you.” In preparation for such moments I had charged my digital camera battery and prepared a small album with copies of emails from BC-ers I specially wanted to meet. There were pages for photos and spaces for people to write notes. This album is now a treasure containing a wealth of mementos of old friends and new. Would that there had been time to meet all the enthusiastic BookCrossers.
Hungry folk bought lunch tickets from the upstairs bar choosing from a variety of barbecued meals. Keen chefs operated a continuous barbecue downstairs beside the venue; tickets were swapped for plates of food that we took back upstairs to eat in comfort. This arrangement worked really well; the organisers had chosen a venue adjoining another operation so food and chefs were readily available and happy to cooperate.
Around 3 p.m., the raffle was drawn and people dispersed with high hopes of England winning another World Cup match. Some gathered back at the hotel lobby for drinks and there were whoops and cheers, first of anticipation and then of despair. Others, like us, went to their rooms for peace and quiet. While England played its way to oblivion, I reviewed the contents of my surprise goodie bag, developing ideas for NZ’s Convention in February 2007.
After the football debacle we returned to the lobby. Disappointment reigned. One group of watchers hoped to drown their sorrows by watching a new Doctor Who programme while others wanted to mourn in quiet. Dr. Who fans raced for the lifts when the TV was switched off. But there were too many for the small lift. It jammed. Ten people including our Gizmopuddy and BigBoss were trapped in stifling heat. It was an hour before the fire department responded to urgent calls and released these wilting folk from their cramped prison.
Meanwhile marvellous, warm Molyneux and UrbanSpaceman shepherded a group together and we headed past a picturesque canal, somewhat spoiled by a bedraggled semi-naked impromptu bather, towards a Balti restaurant, leaving caffcaff behind awaiting her husband’s release from the lift.
There was a wide variety on the Balti curry menu with the number of chiles clearly marking degrees of heat, but it offered very few mild dishes. My chicken khorma was mild but Mr. Sherlock’s fish choice was much hotter than the same dish in New Zealand. The Peshwari naan bread made with coconut milk was of interest to me - it was a new and delicious taste. Both the Peshwari naan and an accompanying plain naan were the most enormous I have ever seen, at least 50 centimeters across.
Special memories from that dinner table were Mytilus, our noted Marine Biologist, eloquently quoting John Donne across the table towards my dish of chicken Khorma, and TutleyMutley placidly knitting a very lengthy unidentifiable something as she waited for her meal.
On the walk back to the hotel we passed a riotous café. Patrons were celebrating France’s World Cup win – an event especially pleasing for me thinking of our half French family. Our group was lured by Firedragon to ride a Ferris wheel where we were rewarded with fine starlight views. Birmingham was booming that night.
After Sunday morning’s leisurely breakfast we watched the awesome organisation of cartons of books into carefully catalogued selections for distribution during the city release walk. Lists, maps, and papers to record release spots had all been prepared and were attached to each selection. As people waited for instructions there were fond hugs, subdued sniffles and farewells. The lobby rang with cries.
“Hasn’t it been great?”
“We’ll be back next year.”
“Don’t forget London in 2008.”
We did not participate in the release walk because we’d been warned about difficulties and delays travelling on British Rail on a Sunday and were anxious to get underway. I joined the large group of LiveJournalers to be photographed on the steps in front of the hotel with the irrepressible Skyring prostrate along the footpath at our feet.
Our train timetable was out of date and we had an hour’s wait at the station but at least it was cool. There were numerous delays on the tiresome trip home; in many places the train just crept along because heat was buckling the rails in a dangerous fashion. We finally trudged the last short distance to the Surbiton flat through the start of yet another heat wave. We were happy and content, accompanied by about 15 books and wonderful memories.
It was comforting to know that I already had tickets for the Australian convention in Adelaide in October and a reservation at a Backpackers hostel. What will it be like? There is nothing surer than the venues will be filled with like-minded, book-loving people and wonderful enticing books. I’m keen to put faces to well-known BookCrossing names and eager to meet even more BookCrossers. My camera battery is charged; my expectations are high. I love conventions.
