TAFF - pg 20 Big topic of discussion was the fact that the convention hotel had cancelled out only two days ago. Bobbie had told me about this early that morning and I was now hearing Blla's version. Between the two of them they had managed to secure andther hotel on such short notice & things were now booked into the Kingsley Hotel on Bloomsbury Way. No- tices were being mailed out of the change of hotel. Chief reason for the change was the fact that the owner balked at the idea of us bringing liquor into the hotel & had then nullified the agre- ement made by the manager. The owner was a woman active in politics and on the council. I gathered from the lucid descriptions of he that she thought the sun rose and set on her ass. Roberta Gray writes: The Tuesday before the Convention, I was wondering whether there would be a Convention at midday. The fact that the hotel we had book- ed decided not to have us at the last minute is old hat now, but I am not likely to forget that particular Tuesday. It started just before midday when Ella rang me and said in a rather strained voice that a crisis had arisen re the hotel. Sandra and I went round to the hotel and discovered what it was and thereafter the three of us spent the afternoon walking around looking for another hotel and wondering if we would end up booking a bed for the TAFF candidate in the crypt of St. Martins-in-the-Fields. However, the London Chamber of Com- merce (Paddington) came to our rescue and got us fixed up at the Kings- ley Hotel in Bloomsbury at special rates for the Con members. It was that day that my right foot suddenly decided to play me up a- gain and I was wondering how on earth I was going to keep my promise to Don to walk him round the interesting parts of London. Anyway, I went back to the flat and hoped that keeping off my feet for a while would help, but it turned out that I need not have worried when I called at Ted Carnell's office the following morning. I was late, of course, a bad habit I seem to have acquired over the past few morths. When I arrived at Ted's office a tall, dark chap got up - and up - and up. My first thought on seeing Don Ford was "My God! How am I going to keep up with him? He's a foot taller than I am." But, Don it seemed, had also been having trouble with his feet and what actually happened was that he had a job to keep up with me at times. When my feet aren't bothering me I am a quick walker, though, and anyone I'm with usually ends up asking "Where's the fire?" Don didn't feel like a lot of walking (Neither did I) so after taking him up to Piccadilly and Kingsway - and discovering to my astonishment that he did not drink coffee - we returned to Ted's office to collect Ron Bennett and Brian Jordan and moved on to the Tower of London. Outside the Tower were a couple of men with a fruit stall and Don took a photograph of them as part of the London scene. When he'd taken it one of the fruitsellers came up to him and said; "Ere, mate, you needn't 'ave wasted yer money taking me picture. You coulda got one of me fer nuffin' from Scotland Yard." But five minutes later he was giving Don a queer look when Don said to a little boy by the stall: "hey, sonny, steal an apple and I'11 take your picture."