Friday at the fair

I’m a disgrace. Not only did I escape from the fair for a couple of hours of retail therapy over lunch, but I accosted a perfect stranger in a café. I noticed this man getting his Macbook out with his espresso, so I just walked over and asked if he knew where he keeps his grave accent. Yes. I really needed one yesterday for my French author, so felt it was worth finding out. He did know, but I’ve tried it at home and it doesn’t work.

Otherwise another good day, but I can say now that Swedes don’t understand the meaning of queues. They are all over the place, but most seminar rooms are big enough to swallow everyone up, so after the confusion you do get in. After my little shopping expedition I walked round like a bag lady, but I’ve got a good routine by now, so can manage fairly well.

I won’t say where, but there are some less frequented areas with lovely armchairs to sit down and rest. I tend to go there with my packed lunch to relax. Today I witnessed several interviews being filmed, complete with umbrellas and lights and microphones and other gadgets.

One of my talks today was less interesting than expected, so I have to admit to getting a book out to read. I thought because two of the current big names in crime were there it’d be good, but it all got very cute and soppy. Never mind.

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