Marg Maiden
Joined: Nov 30, 2008
Posts: 6 (view all)
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Age: 41
Country: Australia
Province/State: New South Wales
City: Sydney
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Tuesday in Poznan
December 9, 2008 - 04:20 PM
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Tuesday lunchtime in Poznan I wake up to the gloomy light coming through the blinds in an unfamiliar room in the Sheraton. I have forgotten what it feels like for my head not to hurt.
I look outside to see the aeroplanes swarming into the airport and a line up of big black limousines in the street below. A lot of the big-wigs and black suits are arriving.
I soon realized the room is mine, which I guess tells you something about my conference experience so far.
Out in the corridor I find Xao and Gupta lying asleep, people stepping over them, and Jim from San Francisco trying to offer them water and clean them up. Jonah from Tuvalu is beside himself again, and someone in a suit is cussing at poor old Jim.
My tongue feeling like a camel’s armpit, I weave my way down to the buffet breakfast. Why do they only give you tiny little glasses? I fill mine up with tomato juice about 8 times. Some Polish servant chick is trying to take the breakfast dishes, but she stops dead in her tracks soon as I look at her. Don’t blame her, as I must look like Amy Whinehouse after a bout of pig wrasslin’.
I’m ravenous again and get myself a huge bowl of cocoa crispies followed by a plate full of pancakes, some goddawful honey and bacon bits. Yeah, I believe in close international co-operation as much as the next guy, but I hope I’m not pregnant.
I make the mistake of sitting down next to a guy with a big hat. Turns out he’s Australian, calls himself Professor Tim. He looks at me with eyes all crazy-like and says, “This is our last chance, you know, just like Rio, Johannesburg and Bali.”
I nod, but unfortunately he takes this as encouragement.
"At the 48th degree of the climacteric at the end of Cancer so great is the drought that fish in the sea, river and lake are boiled hectically. Southwest France in distress from fire in the sky."
I move tables.
Don’t ask me about today’s schedule – I caught a glimpse of the programme and it looks like a million meetings.
I go back to bed. Late in the afternoon, Xao and Gupta come banging on my door asking if I can find them a new nightclub that hasn’t barred them yet. I figure, if they’re going out, there’s no point me staying.
I layer up and hit the streets. It’s freezing of course – if the thermometer is an inch longer, we freeze to death. Later, we walk past some prostitutes who offer to blow on our hands for $20. Did I mention, my head hurts?
This post was edited on: 2008-12-09 at 04:23 PM by: a
This post was edited on: 2008-12-09 at 04:27 PM by: a
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