And in the bleak midwinter...

Minor edit made on 2006/10/09 to protect the anonymity of another blogger

A beautiful morning dawns in Harrogate, the sunlight glinting off the ice and icicles hanging under the railway bridge. Harrogate is in the grip of the bleak midwinter and after being trampled by numerous Lib Dem feet, the 2 inches of soft fluffy snow that fell yesterday afternoon has been trampled into a treacherous sheet of ice.

When I arrived in Harrogate there was a complete blizzard going up and it was cold enough to freeze the brass balls off a ballot box (or such-like). Being the intrepid explorer that I am, I traipsed through the snow to the conference centre and then traipsed back to the station to meet LibertyCat who'd had train problems. After various encounters of the queue-kind, we failed miserably to get into the Meeting the Challenge rally where Menzies was making his first speech. For reasons unknown, the rally was being held in this seriously small room in the Holiday Inn. By the time we arrived they'd closed the doors because too many people were trying to pile in. The rally rejects traipsed into the Holiday Inn bar.

We stayed there until 8pm when we went to a Lib Dem History group fringe about Charles James Fox (see Georgiana and Britons). Mr Fox was a guy who enjoyed permanent opposition (as well as gambling and nicking other guy's wives) and who as a result of being a professional opposer never really got into government for any prolonged period. Shortly after he did get into government for the second time... he died. His legacy was being 'cool' and attracting people who went on and did major s**t during the 1820s - 1850s. And by being a major people magnet he laid the groundwork for the formation of the Whig party out of an aristocratic faction. I'm guessing he was 'cool' as a result of his extra-curricular activities although he apparently was a humorous and articulate orator... Just shows debauchery can pay (this wasn't the tagline for the talk but I bet it would have increased attendance).

I hung about chatting until about 11pm when I popped into the London region disco which had a dance floor on which you would have had difficulty swinging a baby gerbil. I gave up after narrowly avoiding injury to several bystanders. I figure if you can't hear anything without yelling full volume and the dance floor is as pants as your average branch of La Senza then it's probably worth paddling off into the snowy night. Didn't stop me having my last dance though. If you ever read the conference reports from the old F&M you'll know my last dance of the night is always with the same person and it's been a ritual for the last 5 years. Toodloo campers!