Last Tuesday was a funny day. I ‘went’ to Budapest, without leaving my French village, tomorrow I shall ’be‘ in Croatia. Only in October shall I, physically, attend a conference with my own body being in the room. As a debutante, I participated in a conference being held in Central Europe, whilst being in my PJs (passim a former article). The session kicked-off with a wobble, as I accidentally logged on without brushing my hair, or showering, so delegates (probably) snatched a glimpse of a wild-eyed woman, staring blankly into the camera, whilst mouthing obscenities at the laptop for not making the link (clearly in error, as it had?). Hopefully, they thought I was some form of warm-up act, not that shouting and swearing was on the agenda, for these were the finest collection of today’s socio-political movers and shaker-thinkers ever to be found in one room?

The remainder of the day became a roller-coaster of technical, human, and feline conference capers.

In the old days - when we had European funding for such things - attending a conference was part of the professional landscape...9.30am registrations, coffee and croissants (having just had a blow-out breakfast at hotel), meeting colleagues from afar (or those from the 1st floor of the same building, but now we all in Manchester-Rome-Brighton, and the coffee is better quality)...then, shuffling into the auditorium for the opening address, clapping, key-note speakers, coffee-break (more croissants), return to auditorium or - horror of horrors ‘break-out’ sessions. I once took this literally, and left the building to go shopping in adjacent toy-shop, so dire was the prospect of 45 minutes with the pre-selected group. Had the toy shop not existed, I would have, happily, sat with the homeless in the park, opposite the conference suite, for their world view would have mattered. Interestly, not one eye-brow was raised, when, precisely 45 mins later, I returned with an over-sized catapiller (a toy, not a real one - a decision which I now regret). My prepared response - had I been challenged - was that Brian (he of Magic Roundabout fame) was an ice-breaker. But, being the dullest collection of folk, ever, nobody thought (or had the courage) to even ask the question.

Anyway, back to the conference. The technical link was fine for a while, then the buffering started, causing the speakers to look and sound like fiercely-intellectual Daleks. Then the link failed entirely for a while, then improved. However, the main fun was to be had in my small auditorium, or study, as it is known. Our 2 rescue cats decided they would have a rare burst of energy for 5 minutes and played pirates around the room - my laptop clearly being ‘home-base’. Keeping them off the keyboard at crucial moments of discussion was a challenge, but more so was, after the larking, the wailing for food, as it was nearing midday and they are French. This, as a rule, does not happen in the traditional method of conference-going. I’m trying to recall, but I don’t think, in all my years of conferencing, we had pet-mayhem in the plenary and yowling in the seminars (ok, sometimes from me, but not often), nor did I have to leave my seat to open a can of Whiskas, no matter how peckish I was? I secretly hoped that the microphone picked up the feline remonstrations, and my reply. Perhaps, somewhere in the conference archive, there is a confused translator, trying to find the Hungarian for ‘stop that, you monster-kittens, leave me alone for 5 minutes, or I will not cook your fish’?..

The up-side of e-conferencing is, of course, the multi-tasking. For some of us, this is a Curate’s Egg. One really ought to focus and give total concentration to the speaker, not book flights, make a sandwich and, at one point (unwanted image warning..look away).. go to the toilet, whilst following a debate on neo-Keynesian economics and the New World Order. There is fun to be had, balancing one’s laptop, whilst opening the cave door, rootling for a cabin-case and looking for other travel items. It’s the remote equivalent of doodling, which we have all done during conferences - you know you have?

If - and it is highly unlikely - I am ever asked to present another paper at a conference, I shall address myself to the e-delegates, those mysterious, non-people in the room, asking them politely not to make a cup of tea just yet, as I am about to make a salient point of world importance. That is, of course, unless they are off to feed the cat. In that case, I’ll wait for them. Miaow!