Sunday PM...
Having tired of blogging etc for the day, thence to dumping the laptop for the day. While the police and the security folk are all thoroughly pleasant and helpful, there is much to be said for speeding up the security check in.
Despite my advanced years I managed to get an invite to the Young Britons Foundation bash. I've cracked the 'what about a Middle Aged Britons Foundation?' gag so many times that even I'm getting tired of it. Anyway, Donal had the sense to keep the talk brief and to focus on encouraging us to make inroads into the vino. OK, it was only vin ordinaire, but it is a churlish individual who carps about what is freely given. And I wasn't the oldest there, as Iain was a sort of guest of honour, although his corresponding duties did not seem especially arduous. Well, sitting in the corner and holding forth. Notable that we relative grey beards - Iain, Jonathan Sheppard of Tory Radio and meself made a beeline for the limited seating.
Exiting, we spotted James 'Quaequam' Graham leafletting outside, and being a good sport he did not put up a fuss over my amusement at him sporting a Tory logo-ed ribbon for his conference pass. Anyway, the picture was a disaster, so just take my word for it.
Next stop was the Freedom Association / Forest 'Nanny State no thanks!' bash further up the road. This has been trailed with the intriguing line 'Smokers Welcome'. Hmm, thinks I, but having quizzed Mark Wallace of the FA he pointed out that the hired room had a very large balcony, and they were going to make a point of leaving the doors open. I had a half corona to celebrate, although it must be said that the balcony was Northern Line at rush hour crowded. Anyway a thoroughly entertaining bash, although I managed to miss the vol au vents. I heard an interesting defection rumour which was variously poo poohed / met by a sharp intake of breath when relayed. One of the speakers noted that the attendees at their bash at the Labour conference had only managed a derisory 80 bottles of champagne and he was sure we would outdo that. I have little doubt that we did, and I think the FA were pretty bold for having been the lion in a den of Daniels the other week. Mind you, the ippr (if they will insist on being ever so e.e.cummings about the name I suppose I should humour them) and the Smith Institute are lurking here too.
After further milling, it was reckoned that the Imperial was the place to be, as indeed it was. This made the FA bash look sparsely attended, and getting served was a nightmare. If not quite as nightmarish as the price of a round of drinks. Apart from sundry bloggers, the 18 Doughty St folk and others, I also chatted to a gentleman - the name of whom escapes me - who has been a councillor for over 50 years. Very impressive.
Despite my advanced years I managed to get an invite to the Young Britons Foundation bash. I've cracked the 'what about a Middle Aged Britons Foundation?' gag so many times that even I'm getting tired of it. Anyway, Donal had the sense to keep the talk brief and to focus on encouraging us to make inroads into the vino. OK, it was only vin ordinaire, but it is a churlish individual who carps about what is freely given. And I wasn't the oldest there, as Iain was a sort of guest of honour, although his corresponding duties did not seem especially arduous. Well, sitting in the corner and holding forth. Notable that we relative grey beards - Iain, Jonathan Sheppard of Tory Radio and meself made a beeline for the limited seating.
Exiting, we spotted James 'Quaequam' Graham leafletting outside, and being a good sport he did not put up a fuss over my amusement at him sporting a Tory logo-ed ribbon for his conference pass. Anyway, the picture was a disaster, so just take my word for it.
Next stop was the Freedom Association / Forest 'Nanny State no thanks!' bash further up the road. This has been trailed with the intriguing line 'Smokers Welcome'. Hmm, thinks I, but having quizzed Mark Wallace of the FA he pointed out that the hired room had a very large balcony, and they were going to make a point of leaving the doors open. I had a half corona to celebrate, although it must be said that the balcony was Northern Line at rush hour crowded. Anyway a thoroughly entertaining bash, although I managed to miss the vol au vents. I heard an interesting defection rumour which was variously poo poohed / met by a sharp intake of breath when relayed. One of the speakers noted that the attendees at their bash at the Labour conference had only managed a derisory 80 bottles of champagne and he was sure we would outdo that. I have little doubt that we did, and I think the FA were pretty bold for having been the lion in a den of Daniels the other week. Mind you, the ippr (if they will insist on being ever so e.e.cummings about the name I suppose I should humour them) and the Smith Institute are lurking here too.
After further milling, it was reckoned that the Imperial was the place to be, as indeed it was. This made the FA bash look sparsely attended, and getting served was a nightmare. If not quite as nightmarish as the price of a round of drinks. Apart from sundry bloggers, the 18 Doughty St folk and others, I also chatted to a gentleman - the name of whom escapes me - who has been a councillor for over 50 years. Very impressive.
Labels: Conference 2007
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Despite my advanced years I managed to get an invite to the Young Britons Foundation bash.
"Despite my advanced years"
This is unfair, Mr. C - I spilt my coffee all over myself.
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