On Friday 13th I went to London for the h2g2 Meet the next day. Good job I'm not superstitious, otherwise I'd probably have stayed in bed and would have missed a wonderful meet. All went well; for once airport security let me pass through without asking me to open my bags. The flight was uneventful, and we landed even a bit earlier than scheduled, so all was good...

Icy met me at the airport. I spotted him immediately, but he didn't recognise my behatted self until I was quite close. He treated me to a coffee, then we went outside and I had a smoke, and then we had to hurry a bit to catch the direct train Icy had bought tickets for. So far, so good.

On the train I dropped my bags and sat down to finish my coffee. My mobile phone kept ringing and vibrating (my provider tends to send me dozens of text messages when I enter a foreign country), so I decided to put it in my handbag and not have it in my coat pocket. Suddenly I noticed that there was too much space in my handbag (which had been crammed before). I took all things out to see what was missing, and then I had a nasty shock: my wallet, containing my ID card, credit card, Oyster card and all my English money was nowhere in the bag. I told Icy that I had lost it and that we'd have to go back to the airport, hoping somebody had found it there. He remained calm and told me to check my rucksack and my coat pockets. I knew it couldn't be in the rucksack, but I once again emptied my handbag. I had taken one larger handbag for travelling, and one smaller for when I was in London, so I once again emptied both. No luck. So, at the next train stop we got up to leave the train and fetch another one back to the airport when suddenly I had a bright moment: I stooped down and looked under the seat – and there lay my wallet! I think all of you can imagine just how relieved I was: firstly, that I hadn't lost my wallet after all, and secondly, that I had had the sense to look under the seat. However, this feeling of absolute terror never quite left me until I was back home on Sunday (I'm still shaking just remembering it); and for the rest of my stay I kept checking if everything was still there, so if you noticed me forever rummaging through my bag: that's why.

Once at the hotel, I took off my coat and Friday 13th hit again: I had spilled coffee all over me, so my blouse sported a large coffee stain, and my trousers showed some small ones, too. Plus: what with the shock I had had and all, I was completely soaked, and it showed on my blouse. Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it (although I tried). I'm always glad for the tea/coffee making facilities in London hotels, because I was very much in need of another coffee!

After I had calmed down again, Icy and I made our way to the pub for the Friday fringe. On our way there, I got a text message from MazinMadFiddler, telling me where in the pub he and minichessemouse were sat, so that was good to know. We stopped for a sandwich just round the corner of the George (their food is ghastly, so I'd not recommend having food there). The sandwich was lovely, however, and we caught seats by the window where we watched London pass by, which was nice.

MMF and minichessemouse were at the same table we'd been at last year. Despite the weather forecast, it was a sunny and mild day, so sitting outside was fine. By and by, the others arrived, as there were (in no particular order cause I don't recall who arrived when): Hati, Hapi, Ben, TRiG, Superfrenchie, Bald Bloke, Dragonqueen, lil and Pete. Ben had brought one copy of the h2g2 book the consortium had had printed and we all got to look at it. We heard that Friday 13th had been unlucky for Z, too: somebody had stolen his bike and the h2g2 consortium h2g2 t-shirts they had intended to bring as quiz prizes.

As far as I'm aware, nobody else had had to suffer from any mishaps, though. We spent a lovely evening chatting, laughing, and drinking beer. Like last year, the heaters at our table wouldn't work, so first we moved to another table (it got a little chilly once the sun was down), then we moved inside. I don't recall at which time left, but I think it was quite late.

I'm always looking forward to the English breakfast when I go to London, and I wasn't disappointed on Saturday morning: I had scrambled eggs, beans, sausages, but no toast or ham (that was my choice, there was enough toast and ham available). Next time, I'll have to remember that English sausages are in no way comparable to tasty German Bratwurst, though. They look similar, but that's it. Taste and texture are rather 'ugggh', and I wonder what they are made of. On second thought: don't tell me, I think it is better if I don't know. The hotel was short of mugs, so I had to wait quite a while until somebody brought fresh mugs and I could have my coffee!

When I got back to my room after breakfast, I found a text message from Gnomon, telling me that he had landed. According to my phone, that had been an hour ago, so I thought he might be close to the hotel by now. I texted back asking when he'd arrive at the hotel. I meant to offer him to drop his bag in my room because it was too early for him to check in. However, when he finally surfaced from the underground and got my message, I was on my way to Highgate Cemetery.

Icy had come to fetch me at my hotel and take me there. He had sussed out which bus to take and everything, so all I needed to do was to have my Oystercard at the ready and sit and enjoy the bus ride through London. Again, the weather was lovely, although there were a few black clouds coming and going. Highgate is a lovely area of London. You don't really feel like being in London at all. The cemetery only opens at 11am, so we took a short stroll through the adjacent park (I forgot the name of it, and it isn't mentioned on online maps). There was a large, hollow oak, it even had its own plaque. I had never seen a hollow oak before (or any hollow tree, come to think of it), so I was suitably impressed.

When we went to the cemetery at 11am we weren't the first to buy our tickets. The guy selling them was just explaining to a woman where which grave was located. He was a cheerful and very friendly man who obviously enjoyed his job. We got our tickets and a small guide and set off to visit Douglas Adams' grave. Turned out, we had overestimated the scale of the cemetery and so we soon found ourselves at its other end without having spotted any 'significant' grave. We asked some man who was tending a grave, and he told us where to go.

This is an old cemetery, and many of the graves are in a bad condition, but it is very atmospheric and peaceful. People from all countries and religions are buried next to each other, and we pondered that there is peace between the religions in death at least.

Eventually, we found Douglas' grave. I was surprised that there were no flowers, as his 10th death day had only been three days ago. I can't really describe it, but it looked: deserted. However, fans had put small stones and even a dolphin on the tombstone, and I spontaneously put my h2g2 enamel badge on it. I had got it for my work for the h2g2 aviators and I had cherished it, but I thought it was appropriate that he should have it – if you know what I mean.

Close to Douglas' grave we spotted the grave of Gustav Mahler's daughter Anna, so I took a photo for h5ringer because I know he is a fan of Gustav Mahler. Afterwards, we randomly walked across the cemetery for a while, and then we went back to the centre of Highgate.

We had a cup of coffee (or tea, respectively), then browsed a charity shop for some books, and I bought two: John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids, which Icy said was a classic, and JRR Tolkien's Unfinished Tales which I had never heard of, but I loved The Hobbit and the 'LOTR' books. Then we caught a bus back into central London where we were to meet the crowd at the exceedingly ugly Olympic clock at Trafalgar Square. Please read Gnomon's Meet report for what happened on Saturday and Sunday.

I didn't take many photos, but in case you are interested you can find them in my online album.

The h2g2 Meets Archive

Bel

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