It’s all about the... towels? - Worldcon 2nd part
(Versione italiana)
After all this time, memories are beginning to fade. However, let’s see what turns up.
First of all, I have to add a detail to my former report: French friend Patrick on a mailing list remarked that the subject of the Saturday panel with China Miéville was “Is there too much homoeroticism in fantasy for real homosexuality?”, and Miéville had been invited there as “token straight”. I approve: sf people are democratic people, we respect minorities. Anyway, I can’t see how I could forget such an important detail: either because of my fatigue drunkenness, or, as usual, because of my hormones, which at the sight of such a token silenced without too much diplomacy my already hidden lesbian side.
Let’s get back now to our report.
For dinner, I find myself at an Indian restaurant with annafdd, Benjamin Rosenbaum and a group of Americans, after taking a few picturesque photos.
Too bad I was so tired, because I was sitting just in front of Benjamin, who went on entertaining us with his gags and more, such as a very erudite explanation of his theory about Jonas’ book, which, according to him, was originally a comic, or at least parodistic, tale, which was completely misunderstood. Unfortunately, because of my fatigue I wasn’t able to follow everything he (or anyone else) said, and I just kept on languishing in a digestive drowse until we left the restaurant.
After dinner, first we went back to the Exhibition Centre, and then to the Hilton, where all the parties took place, while annafdd went on dragging me all over with superhuman energy - or at least that’s what it seemed to me, having no energy left - and introducing me to representatives of the fandom from all over the world, people whom - alas - I remember now only vaguely.
She also explained me those parties were organized to promote candidate cities to future Worldcon editions (or even previous Worldcon editions, what’s the use of inventing the time machine otherwise?). I just felt miserable because there was so much to eat and drink there that I regretted having dinner at the Indian restaurant. And paying for it, of course.
In the meantime, I made a big mistake: I told annafdd I had forgotten to bring a towel. I always forget something when I travel, and naturally, I realize it when it’s too late. I even tried once to forget something on purpose, hoping to exorcize forgetfulness, but it didn’t work. Well, I think so. Actually, I don’t remember.
Anyway. I was speaking of the towel. Well, if I had stayed at a hotel there would have been no problem, of course, but in order to save money I had chosen the wonderful Bluesky Hostel, so the problem was real.
annafdd started chasing a towel for me: every time she introduced me to someone, she told him/her about this story, and asked if they had an extra towel. I’ll be remembered as “the woman who didn’t have a towel”. We roamed all over the Hilton chasing the precious item, trying to sneak into prohibited rooms, finding parties where doors were hermetically closed, feeling sure that inside there had to be a towel, and wondering, finally, if a conspicuous number of paper napkins from the parties wouldn’t do. The conclusion was, I decided I would buy a new towel the following day. annafdd then had a great idea: ‘At the dealers’ room I have seen “Don’t panic” towels!’. It’s decided: the next day’s mission will be buying the ‘Don’t panic’ towel.
I think eventually I went to bed around 2 a.m., or even later, which means I didn’t sleep for 24 hours, except for a nap on the shuttle from Paris to the airport, something I wasn’t able to repeat on the airplane because a nice guy took out of his case a maxi Toblerone, filling the Ryanair aircraft of chocolate scents which, after a generous breakfast, had only the effect of provoking dangerous, and unpleasant, peristaltic movements. Luckily, I don’t suffer from air sickness.
The following day, then, starts another chase to the savage towel. I won’t go into the details of how I got along without one at the hostel, but I want to make clear that I did have my shower. Actually, the day’s other mission was harpooning Pat Cadigan and try to have an interview with her, and I think I wouldn’t have been very convincing if I had kept the previous day’s exhalations.
By the way. About the previous day, there is a detail I forgot to mention in the other report: at the entry, we found two signs, one above the other, the first one announcing that Iain Banks (and, incidentally, J.K. Rowling) would not attend the convention, and the other one announcing that Iain M. Banks would be present on Sunday.
We concluded the science fiction author would be present, not the fiction author (to understand the difference, have a look at Banks’ website).
First stop, then, at the dealers’ room. This time I’m alone, I don’t have a rendezvous with Anna, we know we’ll meet somehow. I get to the ‘Don’t panic’ stand to discover the towel costs 15 pounds. Well, I had already decided to buy a Worldcon souvenir, so no problem for the price. The real problem is when I open my wallet and see I only have 5 pounds left. I ask the people at the stand to keep my towel and leave, determined to get money from the cash dispenser. But I realize all of a sudden I’m going to miss a panel I’m interested in, I think ‘The Best New Feminism SF’: it must be that, because it’s one of the panels which were scheduled at the same time as George R.R. Martin’s reading, which, as you can see, was quite successful.
And about Martin, now I have a doubt: was it the evening of the previous day (on Saturday) or of that day (on Sunday) that we found Martin before us in the queue of people waiting for a taxi and, later, at one of the parties?The only one who can tell is Anna, so she’s kindly requested to leave a message both in the Italian version and in the English one, please.
Well, I’ve written too much for today. I think the towel story can wait. And Pat Cadigan too.
Or can’t they?