The unbearable dullness of being there virtually

I’VE been out this week. Almost. Not ‘out, out,’ which of course would be against the rules – but out all the same. I’ve been to a book launch, an awards ceremony and an event to launch the arrival of a major sailing event in Plymouth. If that sounds exciting – and they were all interesting – bear in mind I attended all of them virtually and while sitting in the very same seat that I’m sitting in now. That seat is the same seat I have been sitting on for nearly a year now, and is upstairs in my very nice, though slightly cold, office – as The Girl’s bedroom is now known. The ceremony was the Cornwall Tourism Awards – the very excellent annual event that rewards and celebrates the finest of the county’s tourism business. Last year we attended in person, Mrs Martin glammed up to the nines and me in a dickie bow. It was held in Truro Cathedral, which was stunning, featured lots of Cornish gin, and was a thoroughly good evening with a couple of friends and a great excuse for a night in a decent hotel. The virtual event, beautifully done, slickly organised, and very relevant was very good – just not really fun and no excuse to do anything fun.

Onto the launch of Anthony Gibson’s book Westcountryman. It recounts Anthony’s life and work in farming, cider and cricket, which as a trio of subjects tick just about all of my boxes. The launch was well attended, and the format meant I was far more attentive to what the speakers were saying. That may have been because I had no one to whisper to at the back, or it may have been because a certain Brian Rose – legendary captain of the greatest Somerset cricket team – was lurking among the guests. He spoke, and even discussed a suggestion that Viv Richards should have taken over from him as skipper. (What a lot of nonsense that might have avoided.) Anyway, even if the format did work online, it still would have been more fun with whispering at the back, a glass of wine (maybe cider in this case) and some cheese and pineapple on sticks. And yes I could have gone and got all of those things downstairs, but Mrs Martin would have been worried if I started whispering to her about Brian Rose, and surely cheese and pineapple on sticks is only something you eat when someone else has made it.

The sailing event (Sail GP coming to Plymouth in July) was also alright – although because of Boris’s unlockdown announcement I missed it. But I was able to watch a recording and pretend that I was there on my chair, when I was really just on my chair.

I spent most of the first three months of Lockdown One saying how amazing virtual technology was, how it had changed meetings for ever (much shorter and more effective), and how relieved I was that I didn’t have to go to dreadful events anymore. One year on and we have all adapted more than we expected and have discovered that even events can be run, with large numbers of participants, without any of us having to leave the seat we have been sitting on for a year. They’re great. Cheaper, efficient, far less time consuming, bish bash, bosh. But they are not fun. They’re dull. Talking to your friends on screen was fun for a bit (maybe once) but before long most of us ran out of things to say without the real stimuli of food, wine, music and each other. Of all the unlockdown things I’m looking forward to, the best will be getting off this bloody chair and away from these awful computer screens. Feel free to ask me to the opening of an envelope. I’ll be there!