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I spent the bulk of the weekend in Leicester, having decided to go to the second day of a two day horror conference, in part to feed into my horror module. However, a crisis blew up that I was in borderline contact with so I was waiting for gaps so I could check my laptop.
The bad news with being able to keep in touch with email on your phone is it works both ways. And when did people get into the mentality that assumes you are hanging around, waiting for their email?
In retrospect, I don't think I would have gone if I'd realised that it was just screenings and an interview and a panel, the papers being on the Thursday, a day I was teaching, but shot off at two to catch a train.
And just to note, not a single woman's voice was heard all day. (As SFX knows, women don't do horror.) I'm assuming no women write, direct or produce British horror films. They do scream, but she couldn't make it. There was an interview with a veteran director, by someone who is an expert, but has interviewed him countless times, with someone who looked like a grad student. A white, male grad student.
I note the Phoenix Cinema - which felt like a nice lively space - has now moved from the city centre to the cultural quarter, hidden away from the Curve, the new theatre. It is just about signed - and I can't tell whether it's been shoved into a crap existing building or whether this was new. Half of it appears to be flats, which is maybe taking mixed usage too far. I'm not sure I'd be happy walking there after dark.
Saturday I shot over to Nottingham, for reason which don't bear examining. I timed it badly for the secondhand bookshop, and still didn't go to Hurts Yard as planned last time. To be honest, I spent too long with a lap top in a coffee shop.
I went to the current exhibition at Nottingham Contemporary, which did little for me, but saw the Return to Solaris film.
I left earlier than planned - the energy level was flagging - and was driven mad by a comedy passenger, who had a small dog and a miniature bottle of champagne, an Equity diary, wasn't sure she was on the right train and didn't sit down in the half hour I was in her company. I wasn't sure whether she was being played by Prunella Scales or Joanna Lumley, or maybe Barbara Wodehouse. Patricia Routledge on a bad day. Meryl Streep trying to outbrit Zelwegger.
I had time thus to go to the surviving secondhand book shop, which is more interested in frams and hangs them in front of books. The sf section is in a dark wedged-shaped space, which I more or less fill by standing in it. God knows how he sells anything. Maybe he doesn't
For the second day running, my keycard didn't work. Do they reset them every day?
Only if housekeeping's been in.
Yes, then.
Wherever you put the towel, it doesn't seem to matter, they wash the bugger, despite what they claim abouttrying to save money the environment. And they don't replace the coffee. Good job I'd brought my own.
Hunting around more leads me to the conclusion that no one gets rid of Star Trek DVDs. I've yet to see The Motion Sickness second hand.
I took six books with me and read one. One day I will take one and have nothing to read.
Still, I watched five films on DVD.
That side of the hotel is next to the nightclubs. I don't recall it being loud on the west side.
Continental breakfast is not toast, cereal, jam, croissant and slices of processed cheese.
Despite the failure of the seat reserving system, the journey back was painless, using the slow version of the HST via Rochester because of engineering. Journey time less than 3 1/2 hours.
I needed a week end away. Not sure this was it.
The bad news with being able to keep in touch with email on your phone is it works both ways. And when did people get into the mentality that assumes you are hanging around, waiting for their email?
In retrospect, I don't think I would have gone if I'd realised that it was just screenings and an interview and a panel, the papers being on the Thursday, a day I was teaching, but shot off at two to catch a train.
And just to note, not a single woman's voice was heard all day. (As SFX knows, women don't do horror.) I'm assuming no women write, direct or produce British horror films. They do scream, but she couldn't make it. There was an interview with a veteran director, by someone who is an expert, but has interviewed him countless times, with someone who looked like a grad student. A white, male grad student.
I note the Phoenix Cinema - which felt like a nice lively space - has now moved from the city centre to the cultural quarter, hidden away from the Curve, the new theatre. It is just about signed - and I can't tell whether it's been shoved into a crap existing building or whether this was new. Half of it appears to be flats, which is maybe taking mixed usage too far. I'm not sure I'd be happy walking there after dark.
Saturday I shot over to Nottingham, for reason which don't bear examining. I timed it badly for the secondhand bookshop, and still didn't go to Hurts Yard as planned last time. To be honest, I spent too long with a lap top in a coffee shop.
I went to the current exhibition at Nottingham Contemporary, which did little for me, but saw the Return to Solaris film.
I left earlier than planned - the energy level was flagging - and was driven mad by a comedy passenger, who had a small dog and a miniature bottle of champagne, an Equity diary, wasn't sure she was on the right train and didn't sit down in the half hour I was in her company. I wasn't sure whether she was being played by Prunella Scales or Joanna Lumley, or maybe Barbara Wodehouse. Patricia Routledge on a bad day. Meryl Streep trying to outbrit Zelwegger.
I had time thus to go to the surviving secondhand book shop, which is more interested in frams and hangs them in front of books. The sf section is in a dark wedged-shaped space, which I more or less fill by standing in it. God knows how he sells anything. Maybe he doesn't
For the second day running, my keycard didn't work. Do they reset them every day?
Only if housekeeping's been in.
Yes, then.
Wherever you put the towel, it doesn't seem to matter, they wash the bugger, despite what they claim about
Hunting around more leads me to the conclusion that no one gets rid of Star Trek DVDs. I've yet to see The Motion Sickness second hand.
I took six books with me and read one. One day I will take one and have nothing to read.
Still, I watched five films on DVD.
That side of the hotel is next to the nightclubs. I don't recall it being loud on the west side.
Continental breakfast is not toast, cereal, jam, croissant and slices of processed cheese.
Despite the failure of the seat reserving system, the journey back was painless, using the slow version of the HST via Rochester because of engineering. Journey time less than 3 1/2 hours.
I needed a week end away. Not sure this was it.
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