Gone to London

Well, it turns out that I can't read a map.
We got the right train - recognisable because each carriage contained a moving sign which read 'This train is for COCKFOSTERS', although the other people on it looked all right - and made it to the station just early enough, but then it (being us) started to go downhill. And indeed uphill, and back up the hill which we had just been down.

If one is going to be late for an ambassador, I imagined that the German ambassador was not the one to be late for.
The arrival time was 3pm, the ceremony at 3.15pm, and so I arrived panting at around 3.12pm with my guest.

Guy was my guest, being, as he is, 'streetwise'. Or, if not streetwise, at least less socially inept.

We were greeted by a thin, friendly man who was 'glad to see us' and I wondered if he was the ambassador. He was never seen again. We were pointed in the direction of the guestbook, upon which I scrawled my name and Guy drew a little cartoon because he felt less threatened by the large, looming paintings which guarded the hall.

The room for the ceremony was centred around a Fussball table, and contained around 20 people itching to play but not sure if they were allowed, and about 10 people who were not thinking about playing. They were drinking orange juice and sekt, trying to navigate delicately designed fancy foods into their mouths without losing their dignity or balance. Guy and I stood in conversation, wondering what to do with our hands.

In the ceremony, the ambassador spoke briefly about how much he enjoyed the essays and what the whole event was about. Then names were read out, and winners went up for their prizes. Mine (6th prize, or something like that, or possibly a prize in an entirely new category for cartoons) came in a rather nice bag with pink spots and my name.

Then there were photos. And then it was over. I chatted for a while with one of the overall winners - a kilted fellow - before he became engaged in conversation with someone of more significance. And then I chatted at some length with the other overall winner's pretty girlfriend - which, I was later told, made me the true winner in the whole affair. Except that it didn't really.

And that was that.

*-Oh, I got my face on Newsnight. They covered the ceremony. I was seen clapping, apparently sarcastically, then fading the clap into a disdainful rub of the hands.