Anyway, my daughter woke me up extremely comprehensively at 5:30 and becuase I'd gone to bed so early I sloped down to the lobby to internet. It turns out that £24 for a week is a price carefully calculated; people grumble, but pay it. Except of course for smofbabe; I said cheerfully 'hey, that's $47.50' and watched the colour drain from her face.
New fanzines here include another issue of greengolux's Thought Experiments, the latest Novacon play script from swisstone, and new fanzine Shiny! from flick. This last was slightly disturbing because it made clear that the shininess of the fanzine was directly related to the shininess of the intended recipient. Mine did not look terribly shiny, though it is I think the first fanzine I've had with a hand-sewn binding. ("She forgot she needed a saddle-stapler until it was too late" explained drplokta). I am not sure that I have had any fanzines from people WANOLJ; on the other hand I am not sure there are very many people at Eastercon WANOLJ. The new Plokta went out in the post to Brits a few days ago, but I do have the odd copy to hand out.
Since arriving I've swum twice, eaten in the hotel restaurant twice (both times with limited success due to an incomprehensible system for sorting out food orders), visited the local supermarket (once), and not attended any of the programme. It took me a good 24 hours to unwind though I'm feeling in a fairly convention mood now. There is no programme book; we are promised a Proper Souvenir Book later in the year. These have a tendency not to appear but I have faith in frandowdsofa.
Roger Peyton (WINOLJ, I'm fairly sure) railed in the bar against people in togas, saying this might be his last convention if this was what we had sunk to and the programme had nothing to do with the SF he knew and loved. I pointed out that at that very moment they were discussing who ought to win the Clarke award on the main programme, as reported by coalescent. The incredibly smoky bar is supplemented by a non-smoking bar, which was quite jolly. We were invited to admire frostfox's now-mended hand, and heard more Hair Raising Cat Stories.
The children are happy because all the Usual Fannish Children appear to be here, or at least a critical mass of them. I am not sure how happy everyone else is -- but there is a Parental Collective Containment Zone, possibly for the last time unless someone with slightly smaller kids gets into running it (we were despondent after the Jersey con, soured for both running creches and attending Eastercons; Richard and Helena, after years of sterling service, have announced this is their last one).
Anyway, people seem to be mobilised for breakfast. It occured to me that I might eat breakfast, go get my family and eat breakfast again. Like hobbitses.