'Early Morning Run in... Budapest'

22:30. "Did you catch my presentation this morning?" 

Wow, a cardinal sin right there. I've only just met Tommy. This is a rare beast, an Australian with a smidgeon of self-doubt. The golden rule at any conference, never ever seek feedback.

Earlier we were 120 delegates on a party boat for a dinner cruise. You know the drill; goulash, decent beer & Hungarian vino, with entertainment straight out of the Wheeltappers & Shunters Club. In other words; OK tourist food, dodgy wine and local folk dressed as Morris dancers skipping about playing the spoons, backed by a fellow on a fiddle. In a conference atmosphere, it just works. It just does. 

00:30. Now we're in a bar in Budapest. "It was fine." Tommy looks at me, "fine?" Rule number 2 at any conference, never seek reassurance.

"Tommy, here's the thing, it was fine." Tommy orders us more beers, "only fine?"

"I'm just saying it wasn't a keynote, that's all. Last year we had Frank Gardener from the BBC. He came on stage in his wheelchair (I'm miming the action with my hands), lifted himself on to the red sofa and shuffled to the middle. There you go; a name, an entrance, a story, an impact. Keynote. Yours was fine, just not really keynote. It was fine."

02:30. Four amigos walking & laughing through the historic streets of beautiful Budapest talking about the BBC security correspondent; impact, wheelchairs and keynote speakers while searching for our hotel. Good times. Stories become funnier with repetition aided by a few too many beers. Tommy asks, "Mark, you speaking tomorrow?"

"Yes, I am, looking forward to it."

"Maaaaate (he's gone all Oz), so am I, big time. I'll be in the front row, maaaaate."

Talking of repetition & humour. It's an army thing. Many years ago I was stood swaying in a basket beneath a hot air balloon, tethered to the ground at 800 feet by a steel cable. There's 4 of us taking our first parachute jump. The fifth person is a comedian, he's also the PJI. He numbers us. I'm number 3. The commands start, the way the army works. No 1 in the door (of the basket). No 1 prepare to jump. It's not like an aircraft, there's no slipstream, a straight drop. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand… pray, check canopy. No 1… jump. He disappears, the PJI leans over the side and shouts 'come back'. Hilarious. No 2 prepare to jump. No 2… jump, "come back…". The PJI loved it, you can't help but smile. Repetition.

03:00. The Kempinski Hotel, nice digs. One could make love to a hippo on this bed - it's enormous.

I lay on the bed. Forget hippos. I was in full flow tonight/this morning. I haven't spoken at a conference in 8 years. Come to think of it, the last time didn't go particularly well. 2011 in Ottawa. My presentation on pipeline security followed 3 fully uniformed Mexican firefighters who spoke limited English. They were funny, quirky, but challenging to understand. All the delegates rated the dozen or so speakers on forms handed out by the organisers. I ranked 7th, one place behind Hose A, Hose B... I still clearly remember leaving the stage to the sound of my own footsteps.

06:30. Reveille. Why, oh why. The candle at both ends. I'm speaking later. I'm ill-prepared and strangely nervous. Conference living is taking its toll. Only one post on the blog this year (Saudi), come on, get your arse out of the door…

06:55 and minus 6C, flipping cold. Simples this morning, jog through the heart of Pest (Buda is the other side of the river). Run downtown, the historic buildings, see parliament, hit the Danube, we must witness the holocaust memorial, the bridges over the Danube, and find the statue of Colombo.

Unlikely people are sometimes famous in strange places. Actors & comedians mostly. Norman Wisdom (comedian) was huge in Albania. Shirley Temple (actor) in Ghana. Tony Blair (comedian & actor) in Sierra Leone. In Budapest, it's Columbo, the actor Peter Falk.

I haven't had a guest runner for a while. What a coincidence, a previous guest runner is here as a delegate ('Another Early Morning Run in... Juba'). Where's Olly? A no-show, that's where Olly is. Just you guy's this morning. Come on it's cold, let's go…

After parliament and the grand architecture, let's drop down to the eastern side of the Danube. The Holocaust memorial. The memorial consists of 60 pairs of iron-made shoes set into the concrete of the embankment. 

It symbolises the tragic fate of Jews in the winter of 1944-1945. They were tied together, shot on the banks of the river, and thrown into the river. The Arrow Cross party publicly murdered thousands of Jews all over Budapest, usually forcing the victims to remove their shoes before shooting them. The Danube was called "the Jewish Cemetery."

There are three iron signs in Hungarian, English, and Hebrew: "To the memory of victims shot into the Danube by Arrow Cross militiamen in 1944-45. Erected 16 April 2005."

The memorial is quiet at this time of the morning, you can see the flowers and wreaths and candles. 

On that note, we've been jogging for 40 minutes, let's head back to the hotel for breakfast and thaw out. Oh, Peter Falk/Colombo? I check Google Maps - too far. Next time, I'd like to return here one day. 

14:30. How'd the presentation go? Well, I had plenty to say for myself in the early hours. I see Tommy sat in the front row. I open with the Mugabe story (from a previous blog), timing all out. I want to go with, 'how do you know there's a security expert in the room' (don't worry, they'll tell you), but think better of it. Nerves have set in, like never before. Stuttering, sweating, I stumble through it. 

Terrible... I was back in that hot air balloon. Tommy shoots me that telling Aussie sardonic smile... 

Don't drink and dial they say. Don't drink and present I say. Never again...

P.S. I feel bad rating myself 5 (out of 5) on the conference questionnaire, and giving Tommy only 3.

Happy Christmas to you, and yours - as our old Milkman used to say.