Whenever I go to a convention, I come home thinking of all of the new friends I've made and all of the old friends I've been able to renew acquaintances with. I could probably just post a list of people I talked to all weekend long, and not much would be left out. But that wouldn't make a whole lot of sense to most people, so I'll make it a story as much as possible.
This was a fabulous Worldcon for me. I haven't attended very many conventions, and I've always had trouble, because I'm not naturally a very outgoing person. Even in my most gregarious moods, I tend to have difficulty meeting new people. By now, though, I've made enough friends that I was never left in a room full of strangers for very long, and was always finding a friendly face to anchor me.
Thursday
I came down with a cold the day before I left, and woke up tired, sick and overly agitated at 4 AM Thursday morning. I hadn't been able to pack the night before, so I packed and got ready. My friend Michele picked me up around ten and we were off. The trip was uneventful until we got to Toronto. Then we took a wrong turn and went halfway to Niagra Falls. It turns out there was a subtle but important error in the driving directions provided by the convention. We weren't the only ones to have learn the hard way.
We also had trouble checking in at the hotel, and we never did find a bell hop to carry our luggage. We had to wait in the bar while a computer problem was resolved. The clerk told us to check in our luggage. We asked the bell captain where the check room was, and he pointed waaaaay down the hall. "It's that way," he said, dismissing us to resume standing idle by the door. "Oh, I guess we carry our own bags," I said, glancing at an empty cart that stood nearby. "I'd be happy to help you--" the bell captain started to say, but we just grabbed our bags and walked. I guess this is Canadian hospitality. I won't say the hotel was horrible, but I've received much better service at every other convention hotel I've ever stayed at. I will say, though, that the elevators were the best ever. None of them broke, and there were always enough.
We started the evening with free drinks, then finally got our room. It was pretty small for a double, being an older hotel, and the water pressure was just enough to make you wish you hadn't bothered to shower. One day I couldn't even get hot water. We indulged in a fancy dinner and a nice bottle of wine in the hotel restaurant. The waiter, who sounded Quebecois, but actually was born in Greece, spent most of the meal standing at our table talking to us. I was briefly annoyed that he wanted to participate in our conversation, but he turned out to be a really interesting person, so it was all good. I learned throughout the weekend that waiters in Canada spend a lot more time making small talk than they do in the States.
That night we made an attempt to go to the Speculations party, but aborted when the party turned out not to exist. We went to bed early in preparation for a long weekend. There was also an abortive Writers Workshop party associated with the Opening Ceremonies reception, but again, it didn't exist.
PART TWO (FRIDAY) TO BE POSTED ON SEPTEMBER 2.
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