It's not the books
A Weekend in Sydney at the Australian Bookcrossers' Conference
by SkyringNovember 20, 2004
The meeting place was a nearby Starbucks where we gathered for instructions. It took some time for the organisers to be sure that everybody had arrived, and while we waited we chatted and sipped iced coffee, shared the patches of shade, and (of course) released books into the wild amongst the strolling tourists here at Circular Quay where the green-hulled ferries pull in and the great arch of the Harbour Bridge rules the sky.
It was hard for some of us to blend in. Those bright yellow tote bags,
unsurpassed for holding books in bulk, maps, labels, stickers, bookmarks, camera and a dozen other tools of the Bookcrossing trade, really stood out. One or two of us had Bookcrossing t-shirts, and I was finding my running-book cap invaluable for keeping the
sun off my bald spot. The calico bookbags with the "Bookaroo" convention logo were also highly visible.
Another useful piece of kit was the Bookcrossing ziploc release bag. As the so-called expert on releasing books into bodies of water ( I once dropped a book into Lake Burley Griffin in Canberra and it ended up in
Borneo) I was consulted by
newk, who was keen to splash a book into a nearby fountain.
"Two sealed bags, one inside the other." I told him. It worked well, as the book was still floating around in circles a few hours later when
newk walked past on his way to
release a string of books across the harbour bridge.
We clustered around
FuShMuSh, who was organising the event, as she gave out directions. We were to make our way around Circular Quay to the Opera House, where she would be sitting at the top of the steps, give
her a book, and then sit down at the bottom of the steps, directly behind the person sitting there already. When we had everybody sitting in a line, she would begin handing down the books. As a book reached the person sitting at the head of the line, that
person would put down the book, stand up and walk away, just another tourist.
"Everyone understand?" I would have liked a piece of paper with written instructions, circles and arrows and maybe a map, but everyone was nodding and smiling, so I figured I'd follow someone who knew what they were doing.
Littlemave was one of the local Bookcrossers, so she had a leg up
already, and she'd also brought along her three young children, the youngest of whom was probably not going to make the several hundred metres to the flashmob location all the way under his own steam, so I could give her a hand with him.
We set off and I had to laugh. We were following a chain of Bookcrossers all heading in the same direction, and there were books being released everywhere, spiked on the harbour fence, hanging off statues, sitting in little parks. On benches, in phone boxes, everywhere...
After a bit, I picked up littlemave's tiniest, set him on my shoulders, and we marched along at a faster pace. This allowed
littlemave, with her hands now free, to drag out a stream of books from her bookbag, releasing them as she went. The highlight was when she left a copy of
Somebodies and Nobodies
behind the same pot plant where she had made her first ever Bookcrossing wild catch, a
copy of Harry Potter which had been released by a Canadian tourist. We always remember our first one.
We walked up a set of stairs into the Opera House forecourt. This has got to be one of the most incredible buildings in the world. Set in a perfect location, all but surrounded by the merry waters of the harbour, its curved white roof segments echoing the taut sails of the yachts passing by, the Sydney Opera House is a magnet for every tourist coming to Sydney. As we hurried up, we could see the flashmob assembling.
Easy. All I had to do was climb the steps, give FuShMuSh a book, and sit down in the line. So I did that, leaning into the growing wind and admiring the straight line of bookcrossers ahead of me, all with a bag full of books, and a smile on their face when they turned to look back up. I felt a tap on my shoulder and a book was passed to me. I sent it on down, following it with more in a steady stream.
And then, like magic, the line dissolved. Hawkette, sitting at the front, received her book, glanced at it, set it down and walked away. We all followed her in turn and when we had reached a safe distance, turned around to see a line of books, some sliding sideways in the wind, attracting attention from tourists taking photographs and examining the evidence.
We gathered nearby and watched with a great deal of pleasure as people bent down to look at the books and then rose to stare around, looking for the trick.
Kuju, our
official photographer, grouped us together for a final shot, and then we moved off to find a pub where we could share a drink or two before the
afternoon's activities, shedding yet more books as we went.
This was just one of many Bookcrossing adventures in the course of the three day convention. We had over forty participants from all over Australia and New Zealand, and it was an absolute pleasure to meet with people who had been mere screen-names
before. We'll be doing it again next year, in another Australian city, but I fancy that quite a few of us will be making the flight across the Tasman Sea to attend the
Easter 2005 convention in Christchurch.
In the end, it seems ridiculous, traveling vast distances at enormous expense to give away a few books. What sort of a convention is that?
It's one I enjoyed immensely, that's what. Everyone I met had a Bookcrossing tale or two. Many of us had participated in bookrings or bookboxes. Everyone shared a sense of fun, a generosity, a deep love of books and reading. We were all friends. It's not the books that give me such delight in Bookcrossing, it's the Bookcrossers.
