h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hebden Bridge 3. This was my first /major/ meet, and I met several Mustardlanders there for the first time.

My camera's batteries died yesterday. No problem: install 2 of the 4 that came with my new recharger unit. I had a slight panic when I found that all these 4 rechargeable batteries are sold as dead. There was time to give them 1.5 hours charge before I had to leave (charging them fully takes 7 hours).

I arrived at King's Cross with enough time to spare to grab a bite from Ixxy's Bagel shop. (The bagel is a traditional item of Jewish food. Mine was BLT. The bagel is also one of the few food items that don't have h2g2 "smileys".) Six yobs occupied 6 of the seats near my reserved one, and were rather rowdy. Fortunately, for most of the journey to Doncaster, most of them loitered near the doors. A family of 4 (parents and young son and daughter) got on at a later stop. I spent a few minutes playing the bears and fish puzzle with them. Beyond Doncaster the journey was on local all-stopper slow trains. The Doncaster--Leeds train was shabby and slow, and its engine seemed always on the point of seizing up. (It left at 2:18, 4 minutes late, and arrived at 3:11, 10 minutes late.) The other train was also an all-stopper but was better furnished, and the ride was smoother. I arrived at Hebden Bridge at about 4:30.

Like many Mustardlanders staying at HB, I was at The White Lion, a little old hotel at the top end of Bridge Gate. My room was one of 4 in an annexe out by the back yard. It has a double bed and a single bed and an en-suite bathroom (bigger than the one here at home!), which made me wonder if the possibility of Mustardlanders (other than those who would have shared anyway) being willing to share a room had been suggested (I don't recall any such suggestion).

By now it was about 4:55. Judging by the ones I saw, shops here shut at 5. I put the batteries on to charge, and went out and bought some postcards.

I went out to recce Moyles (New Rd.) and ran into Tal, Laura, MizzE and Jane. I recognised Tal from the front and Laura from the back (she was wearing long mustard ribbons in her long hair: photos in the Lockin).

I got ready for the dinner and turned up at Il Mulino (Bridge Gate, next door, down the hill, to The White Lion) at about 6:45 (for 7). The restaurant is on the first floor of the building. I appeared to be the first arrival. However, when Amy Bridge arrived, Jane appeared from the dining area. The aforementioned 4 had turned up at 6:30 and been treated as a separate group, to ease the task of catering for us all. Thus we were at 2 widely-separated tables. My group was 8: Almond Aire (aka Chris Hanson), Amy Bridge, Misty, Polly Tunnel, Sheena, TWriter, his father, and me. My tagliolini was a disappointing mix of a large serving of pasta with a miserable quantity of little bits of meat and veg.

TWriter is 16, younger than I thought. His choice of subjects in TB, and the maturity of his prose style, suggest a greater age. He uses a wheelchair, but can walk a short distance unaided. He associates muchmore with adults, and less with children, than other boys of his age do (for example, not playing football with boys of his age); this, I suppose, is one way he could have acquired such maturity of style so young.

Back to my room, to find that we had indeed dallied so long at Il Mulino that I'd missed all of tonight's televised Prom.

The Fox and Goose is at 9 Heptonstall Road, but (unusual for a no. 9) is right at the bottom of it. It has three downstairs rooms: a small function room each side, and an even smaller entrance room which is the bar. That night, all Mustardlanders there were in the bar, squeezed into a small space together with several locals. One local, Brian, joined us (his pic is in the lockin). Some of these people were smoking. (That's the nearest smiley I could find!) This created an unbearable oppressiveness which got the better of me around 10:45.