8th June 2016
Writing this from the Holiday Inn, Bloomsbury because our housing as delegates hasn’t been arranged yet. I’ve got just under a week until the Convention meets in full and a couple of days before the election. I’d hoped to spend a day or two in London with Steph even if that just meant chilling in a pub in Camden or being a big ol’ tourist around Westminster. Instead here I am writing, drinking decaff coffee from our two person complimentary coffee.
They told us about the hotel as our train was passing through Kemble. It took about five attempts as I kept losing reception. It's a Tory constituency. I blame them. Be afraid Tories, we are coming for your voting system.
We arrived at Paddington in a bad mood and headed for our new hotel. Even then I was a bit thrilled about being on the underground. Something about it sets off my small town brain in a state of wonder. We arrived at the Holiday Inn only to then discover my hotel room was a twin and not a double and that I would be sharing it with another delegate. After a brief period of being stressed I dumped my suitcase in the room and we quickly headed off to make as much of our day as possible.
Camden was Camden. Incredibly commercialised and yet kinda trashy. Lots of window shopping. I’d return once my first payday came in. Although no doubt I’d end up in the media. Did I want to look metal AF if I could pivot this into a career? I was told we were having a formal launch of the convention and I needed to buy something smart. Part of me wanted to rock up to the event in something like an japanese lolita dress or something similarly weird.
A brief shopping trip turned into pints at The World’s End, a big alternative feeling place opposite Camden Tube Station that variously sells cheese toasties and Thai curries. I went for the latter, Steph on the former (she then dipped her toastie in my curry, gross).
Reluctantly around seven we said our goodbyes and she headed back to Paddington to head straight back to Chelt and I returned to the hotel, quite alone in the capital. It suddenly all hit me so I started typing up the day, got about to the last paragraph. Then my roommate entered with her baggage. In her mid to late 30s with long pale blonde hair to the point where I almost couldn’t see her eyebrows. She offered a hand. “Kirsten McCullough,”
“Emily Fletcher,” I shook it.
“So you signed up to super jury duty too, eh?” she smiled. She had a scottish accent but I couldn’t place it anywhere else.
“Yep, thought I’d do my,” I pause “Civic duty?” I paused again and sat on my bed. “That makes me sound like a wanker,” I sighed “sorry, just, stressed out. I’d planned a couple of days with my girlfriend about London before all this starts,”
“Sorry I stole your girlfriends bed,” Kirsten said, we both laughed. There was a long pause.
“So where did you travel from?” she asked.
“Cheltenham, Gloucestershire,”
“The horse racing town, aye?”
“That’s the one, horse racing and spying on people, you?”
“Oh, Glasgow,” she smiled. There was a pause. I wasn’t sure what to talk about.
“Have you been watching all the party proposals,” she asked
“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd like that,”
“Oh no, its good to be into it, especially now that you got picked as a delegate,”
“I’m actually a card carrying Lib Dem, I’ve got to admit, delivered leaflets and everything,”
“You must be quite happy with what’s going on,”
“Oh yeah, definitely,”
“To be honest I voted SNP in both of last years generals. Then in last months Parliamentary elections I voted SNP for local and Green on the list,”
“Damn, jealous of all that voting,” I said in a joking kind of way, but meaning it.
“Well you might get your chance, to vote for a,” she paused. “M S W P, member of south West Parliament?”
“Wessex?” I suggested”
“MWP?” she frowned. Another awkward pause. “D’you fancy a pint?”
“Sure, London prices though,”
Oh aye but we’re on delegate money,”
“Then sure, Ms CCD,” I smiled.
We went to a nearby generic pub and I bought the first round. With a bit of social lubrication we moved off of politics, got to know each other. What we did before.I explained my boring call centre job and mentioned Steph. She was a nurse but felt she couldn’t turn down this opportunity, plus it paid better,”
“The world always needs nurses, I’m sure I’ll get back to it after December once we’re the federal Kingdom of Great Britain or whatever,”
“Not hoping for independence?” I asked, unable to resist talking politics again
“Hoping, aye, but the unionist parties have come together and said that any constitutional function for independence from the Union would be a union wide matter which means English delegates can vote for it which means it won’t happen or it’ll be exceedingly hard, and Big Alex hasn’t managed to get a pro independence majority yet, not with your lot holding onto them,” she paused then exhaled “We’re going to be mingling with all of them soon,”
“I mean, I already know the Minister for the Convention, Martin Horwood, he’s my MP,” I said sheepishly,
“So you’re a campaigner for the minister in charge of this and you get picked as one of the hundred?” she said, her eyebrows raising.
“I know, I know!” I said defensively, “It sounds dodgy as all heck but I promise it was random chance,”
“Oh I believe you, just impressive, have you met anyone else involved in this?”
“I met the PM last year, he briefly stopped by in a neighbouring constituency we were targeting, you?”
“I met Patrick Harvie, the Green co-leader last month, nice guy, apparently he’s running to be a Delegate for the scottish Greens,”
We then moved onto a different subject. With a force of will on my part. We then returned to our hotel room. Too drunk and tired to type. I put off finishing my diary until the morning.
Good morning Emily.