May 23, 2003. It is a date that will echo loudly in the annals of time. Yes, I’m sure that in some part of the world something wonderful – perhaps even stupendous – occurred. However, in Bristol, England, four exhausted North Americans were trudging wearily towards the Bristol Ramada. Fortunately, two members of the party had been to Bristol and the hotel in 2000 and could navigate their way from Temple Meads Station with a combination of memory, cunning intellect and sheer dumb luck. Okay, I’ll admit it: the dumb luck portion came mostly from yours truly.
The weary trudgers included Kathye from Minnesota, who had attended SA 2000 (and has a much better sense of direction than I do), Ange who’s also from Minnesota and was paying her first visit to Britain, and Sar from Toronto (but born in Deep River), who was also taking her first trip to Britain and had bravely elected herself tour dictator. Oh, and then there was me, which is very unfortunate for you since I’m the one writing this excuse for a con report.
Where were we again? By Herne, I can’t believe we’re still not at the hotel. Either the journey took longer than I remember, or I’m the worst storyteller who ever walked the earth. Uh…moving right along, the four young women found themselves in the hotel lobby (You see, I can speed things up when I need to). Yes they had reached the lobby and the Americans were checking in. I’m sure this was because they were slightly ahead of me and Sar, and not due to some ridiculous “Canadians are polite” stereotype because that’s just a big fat myth or, at least, that’s the frame of mind I was in when I stepped up to the desk.
Kathye, Sar, Ange and Bad Hair Claire at Stonehenge
I was ready for a showdown with the clerk because I had trouble booking our room and was expecting the worse. So, of course, everything was fine. If this sounds similar to something I wrote in my last con report, it’s simply déjà vu. I’m not trapped in a time warp, doomed to repeat the same endless cycle of events over and over again. However, I was suffering from a viciously bad hair day and was hoping to dash up to our hotel room and try to fix it (somehow) before anyone was forced the face the horror of the Claire do. This is probably why I spotted Kathye and Ange hugging a blond woman who I knew could only be Shell, an American living in Scotland and one of our most recent online acquaintances.
As I wasn’t able to escape Shell’s keen but forgiving eyes, I explained about my bad hair day as we hugged. She said sympathetically, “You look so tired!” I couldn’t really disagree. You see, we had woken up at the crack of dawn to go on an all-day tour of Avebury, Stonehenge, Old Sarum and Salisbury, which was wonderful but exhausting, especially when we had to take a train from London to Bristol – on Bank Holiday weekend. And this was on our second day in Britain. On our first day, I dozed through an evening performance of an Ian McKellen play (“Dance of Death” at the Lyric). I think Sar would have killed me if she hadn’t kept nodding off herself. But I seriously digress. Back in the Bristol Ramada lobby, the recent arrivees agreed to meet Shell in the lounge after they had freshened up.
Up in our room, I debated whether it was worth showering and washing my hair when it was about 9:30 pm and I was probably only good for another hour or two at most. I decided to tie my hair back in a ponytail, which wasn’t much of an improvement but at least it was something. I’m guessing that Sar was more eager to get down to more important things, like meeting up with our friends and maybe boozing it up a bit.
We managed to meet up with Kathye and Ange by the elevators on our floor and went down to the lounge together. After finding Shell, we looked for both familiar faces and a place to sit. During our search, I spotted Rina and a couple of ladies I didn’t recognize. If my brain had been functioning properly, I hope I would have introduced myself. Fortunately, as we managed to claim a spot in the lounge, I learned that the ladies were Cora, who runs RobinofSherwood.de and Tina, who was a regular at the weekend RoS chats.
The recent con arrives asked if there had been any signs of our friends and learned that they were dining in the hotel restaurant. However, it wasn’t long before I heard a few voices shout, “Claire!” and turned to find Kirsty, Alys, Anita, Patti, Fiona, Magdalena, and a number of other cyber pals standing in the lounge. I immediately leapt up and exchanged hugs and greetings. Then I was introduced to some more people I had only spoken to online: Jan, Cat and Lydia. Around this point, I also met up with Gary (Robert of Huntingdon) Rhodes and his wife, Pernille.
Nikke at Chepstow Castle
I stayed in the lounge and chatted a bit longer before coming to the conclusion that it was time for bed. My conversation had become about as scintillating as…Well, I was too tired at the time to think of a suitable simile. I was heading for the elevators and would have gone to my room if I hadn’t heard that the registration table was open for business. As I stood in line, I saw a woman in a wheelchair and wondered if it could be Nikke, a keen Heart of Sherwood participant and a lady I had been exchanging emails with for some time. After I had registered and bought my SA 2003 programme, I approached the woman and said, “Nikke?” She said yes and I introduced myself. In fact, I was lucky twice that night because I also ran into a young American woman named Katie, who had contacted me after reading my SA 2000 report, asking if we could meet up at the 2003 con. Anyway, both Nikke and Katie were very nice and I would end up seeing them a number of times that weekend.
After registering and talking to some more people, I was contemplating a second escape attempt to the Land of Nod. Then I ran into Lydia. She asked me very sweetly if I would like to see the costume she had designed for the medieval banquet. As I had seen a picture of her famous Gisburne pullover and knew how artistic she was, I agreed at once.
Lydia’s wonderful Gisburne costume – as worn on the night of the medieval banquet
Up in Lydia’s room, Jan and Cat were also present…and possibly someone else. I’m sorry but that night’s kind of blurry and I’m getting older, okay? Where was I? Oh, yes, in Lydia’s room. She had brought out the costume and draped it across her bed. I gaped at it in an impressed and awestruck fashion. It was almost an exact replica of the outfit Gisburne had worn in such episodes as “The Lord of the Trees” and “The Children of Israel”. Lydia had captured the details perfectly – even down to the gold chain.
While I was in Lydia’s room, I was also privileged enough to see the famous Gisburne pullover in the flesh – er – wool. So it was with visions of Gisburne accessories dancing in my head, that I toddled off to a shower and then to bed. I was half asleep when Sar came in, so we talked for a bit before I started snoring in earnest.
