Having rather carelessly planned a day where I had several events in quick succession, with the minimal 15 minutes between them, I started Sunday by gobbling an early egg sandwich to fortify myself. That’s how I noticed the country’s First Minister arrive, seemingly for a private visit, judging by her clothes. We know Nicola Sturgeon likes reading and so it’s nice to see her wanting to go to a book festival like the rest of us.
It was a grand day. (That actually came out as more unintentionally Irish than I’d been expecting. Sorry.) I saw two Irish Laureates na nÓg in one morning. First Siobhán Parkinson and later Sarah Crossan. (A bit like the two Poet Laureates the other day. They come in twos.)
I took a turn round the square to begin the day, seeing as it was nicely quiet so early. Well, quiet and quiet; I could hear Andy Stanton being noisy in the Main Theatre. But that’s only to be expected.
During the day I came across super-librarian Yvonne Manning, and also Jake Hope, whom I’ve not seen for ages. Caught a glimpse of Dan Smith after his signing. Went to stake out Mark Haddon’s signing, and discovered someone I’ve seen many times before. We’re not acquainted, but she’s a lady who knows how to be first in the signing queue.
Went to two events, and was only foiled from staying for my third intended event – with Debi Gliori – by arriving so late there was no Bookwitch-shaped seat left. I decided Debi was in good hands with plenty of little readers, and waited until I saw her in the bookshop after, where she did her slowest book signing in the world, again. But that’s as it should be.
Once I had this extra time on my hands I decided to treat myself to tea and cake. However I was spared the date and walnut cake by me turning invisible. I know I am both short and insignificant, but the place was completely empty, and no one noticed me. So I moved sideways a little, in case I was standing in the wrong spot. Asked them this, and they were surprised I wanted to order something. Unfortunately, none of the four staff who were busy doing nothing seemed to want to serve me, and after a longer embarrassing wait I left them to it.
I mean, who wants cake, anyway?
The lovely Rosie in the press yurt organised tea for me, and I drank it outside, watching the current Laureate na nÓg being well attended by three publicists. Even I was impressed. And there was a man wearing pink leggings and a mini-kilt.
After several photo opportunities where I had to do all the work myself, as the Photographer has gone off to Iceland, I realised I’m not terribly good at this. Unless it’s my camera that’s not so good at it?
Then I went back to Waverley for the train home, encountering Jenny Colgan coming the other way.