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There's this one, which depends on computer and internet time, but is probably the most satisfactory, seeing as how I use LiveJournal to communicate with some wonderful people. I ws thinking this morning that BookCrossing selects for people who are quirky, generous, well-read, clever and all round fun to be with. And of a certain ethnic background, for what that's worth, which isn't a lot in my opinion.
Good Lord - I'm in Milton Keynes! - I hope I've caught the right train.
So Livejournal is fun, but it's not the only one.
I also have a travel journal, based on a Levenger Circa notebook - all thanks to Bookkczuk, who introduced me to these amazing little books. This needs a table and glue and scissors and stuff, because I use it as a kind of scrapbook, pasting in ticket stubs, maps, photographs, receipts and so on. All the little bits and piecers of paper that you collect as you go through life, especially when travelling. I now have four of them, along with my Washington Journal from January last year. Great souvenirs, and I can print out photographs and LJ entries to add even more colour. But, as I say, they need a certain amount of time and equipment.
Which brings me to my third journal, my Moleskine, bought at Sydney International a few months back, possibly when I left for New Zealand. This doesn't need scissors or a computer connection, so it's perfect for odd moments when I'm waiting for pushback or I don't care to bring out my laptop in public display. I accidentally bought the unlined version, which combined with my handscrawled writing, means it isn't something I show around, unlike the other two, which I foist on as many people as possible.
Now passing through some very green and English countryside, along with villages, sheep grazing, crops growing in the midsummersunlight blazing in through the window onto my laptop screen (please excuse the typos, the train also makes it difficult to type accurately) and Birmingham is about half an hour away.
After my baggage was delivered - the bane of travelling BookCrossers, having to travel with your bodyweight in books - I had another shower to celebrate, this time with soap and a towel, and got my head down for the night. Not as easy as you might wish to get a good night's sleep, and I overheard one of themother residents of myu bunkroom comment that the bells of St Pauls made it easy to keep track of time's night time effluxion, though he actually used shorter and more Anglo-Saxon words. For some reason, I don't suffer from jet lag. Just the fatigue of travelling a long dostance without much in the way of decent sleep. My body soon adjusts. This probably has more to do with my fragmented sleep and work routine at home than any innate bodily or mental toughness, but it's convenient when travelling.
The residual Canberra bodyclock woke me up before dawn and I dressed in the dark, grabbed my daypack, and was out the door in one fluid motion. Experience has taught me to be packed and prepared before retiring, so I can get away without disturbing my room-mates and still have everything I need. Clothes laid out, fresh socks in my shoes tucked under the bunk, money and room key already in my pocket, daypack with camera, tripod, light jacket. My other pack has my laptop and other stuff ready for lugging over to Starbucks if need be - sometimes, my room-mates will lie abed until ridiculous hours, and I don't care to disturb them with undue rummaging.
So I was out the door in the predawn. As you may see from my Flickr account, I went via St Pauls and then along the Embankment to Westminster Bridge. Crossed over and went back on the south bank, taking some pictures of the London Eye. Hard to take a bad picture of it. Very pleasant, with jogglers of both sexes providing a jiggling sort of entertainment mixed up with suited folk on their way to work.
Breakfast - a good solid foundation for the day - followed by a session online. Spoke via Skype with Kerri and uploaded some pix.
Main business of the day was bumming around London. Fleet Street, the Strand, Trafalgar Square - Nelson's Column is concealed beneath a big square framework, not sure what they are doing, but I hope it involves anti-pigeon technology - where I released a book, and up to Piccadilly Circus where I found Waterstones via Leicester Square and Regent Street. Bought a couple of Julie Cohen's romances - she's giving an "Erotic Writing Master Class" as part of the convention, which should be fun. I read a bit of one in the coffee shop downstairs, where I hunted out the sex scenes and appraised them with a critical eye.
Then back home, via Whitehall and Northumberland Avenue, with a nod to Pall Mall. Did my laundry, took some photographs of my hands - yet to be uploaded, and doubtless the other users of the laundry were wondering what on earth I was doing with all the licorice allsorts when they walkedd in on me after the photo session.
Sleep, blessed sleep, broken only by various people snoring, some of them me, and the sound of bells, updating the residents of the City of London as to the time of night down to the quarter hour.
0530 and I was out on the streets again, this time down river via London Bridge and Tower Bridge, and back again on the South Bank. Some great photographs of a great bridge.
Breakfast, quick internet, pack up, check out, schlep my bags to Blackfriars, change at Embankment, get off at Euston, catch a train to Birmingham, which is where I will be arriving in about ten minutes. I'll then have to do some more schlepping to the hotel, which should be a couple of hundred metres away, according to the map. Last time I had Dubnordie to help me, which she did with the aid of a pint or two of lager.
Not to worry - I'm sure I'll make it. In fact, if you are reading this, it means I DID make it, and am now in the process of linking up with other UnConventioneers.
Good Lord - I'm in Milton Keynes! - I hope I've caught the right train.
So Livejournal is fun, but it's not the only one.
I also have a travel journal, based on a Levenger Circa notebook - all thanks to Bookkczuk, who introduced me to these amazing little books. This needs a table and glue and scissors and stuff, because I use it as a kind of scrapbook, pasting in ticket stubs, maps, photographs, receipts and so on. All the little bits and piecers of paper that you collect as you go through life, especially when travelling. I now have four of them, along with my Washington Journal from January last year. Great souvenirs, and I can print out photographs and LJ entries to add even more colour. But, as I say, they need a certain amount of time and equipment.
Which brings me to my third journal, my Moleskine, bought at Sydney International a few months back, possibly when I left for New Zealand. This doesn't need scissors or a computer connection, so it's perfect for odd moments when I'm waiting for pushback or I don't care to bring out my laptop in public display. I accidentally bought the unlined version, which combined with my handscrawled writing, means it isn't something I show around, unlike the other two, which I foist on as many people as possible.
Now passing through some very green and English countryside, along with villages, sheep grazing, crops growing in the midsummersunlight blazing in through the window onto my laptop screen (please excuse the typos, the train also makes it difficult to type accurately) and Birmingham is about half an hour away.
After my baggage was delivered - the bane of travelling BookCrossers, having to travel with your bodyweight in books - I had another shower to celebrate, this time with soap and a towel, and got my head down for the night. Not as easy as you might wish to get a good night's sleep, and I overheard one of themother residents of myu bunkroom comment that the bells of St Pauls made it easy to keep track of time's night time effluxion, though he actually used shorter and more Anglo-Saxon words. For some reason, I don't suffer from jet lag. Just the fatigue of travelling a long dostance without much in the way of decent sleep. My body soon adjusts. This probably has more to do with my fragmented sleep and work routine at home than any innate bodily or mental toughness, but it's convenient when travelling.
The residual Canberra bodyclock woke me up before dawn and I dressed in the dark, grabbed my daypack, and was out the door in one fluid motion. Experience has taught me to be packed and prepared before retiring, so I can get away without disturbing my room-mates and still have everything I need. Clothes laid out, fresh socks in my shoes tucked under the bunk, money and room key already in my pocket, daypack with camera, tripod, light jacket. My other pack has my laptop and other stuff ready for lugging over to Starbucks if need be - sometimes, my room-mates will lie abed until ridiculous hours, and I don't care to disturb them with undue rummaging.
So I was out the door in the predawn. As you may see from my Flickr account, I went via St Pauls and then along the Embankment to Westminster Bridge. Crossed over and went back on the south bank, taking some pictures of the London Eye. Hard to take a bad picture of it. Very pleasant, with jogglers of both sexes providing a jiggling sort of entertainment mixed up with suited folk on their way to work.
Breakfast - a good solid foundation for the day - followed by a session online. Spoke via Skype with Kerri and uploaded some pix.
Main business of the day was bumming around London. Fleet Street, the Strand, Trafalgar Square - Nelson's Column is concealed beneath a big square framework, not sure what they are doing, but I hope it involves anti-pigeon technology - where I released a book, and up to Piccadilly Circus where I found Waterstones via Leicester Square and Regent Street. Bought a couple of Julie Cohen's romances - she's giving an "Erotic Writing Master Class" as part of the convention, which should be fun. I read a bit of one in the coffee shop downstairs, where I hunted out the sex scenes and appraised them with a critical eye.
Then back home, via Whitehall and Northumberland Avenue, with a nod to Pall Mall. Did my laundry, took some photographs of my hands - yet to be uploaded, and doubtless the other users of the laundry were wondering what on earth I was doing with all the licorice allsorts when they walkedd in on me after the photo session.
Sleep, blessed sleep, broken only by various people snoring, some of them me, and the sound of bells, updating the residents of the City of London as to the time of night down to the quarter hour.
0530 and I was out on the streets again, this time down river via London Bridge and Tower Bridge, and back again on the South Bank. Some great photographs of a great bridge.
Breakfast, quick internet, pack up, check out, schlep my bags to Blackfriars, change at Embankment, get off at Euston, catch a train to Birmingham, which is where I will be arriving in about ten minutes. I'll then have to do some more schlepping to the hotel, which should be a couple of hundred metres away, according to the map. Last time I had Dubnordie to help me, which she did with the aid of a pint or two of lager.
Not to worry - I'm sure I'll make it. In fact, if you are reading this, it means I DID make it, and am now in the process of linking up with other UnConventioneers.
