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I’m back! Amazingly enough, so is my luggage. [g]
I think I’ve been to Germany five or six times now—and my luggage has never once reached the place when I did. It’s always showed up eventually, after one, two, three, or even four days, but I’m probably one of the few Americans who knows exactly where the British Airways lost-luggage office is in the Duesseldorf airport. Mind, the first time I went to Germany, Things Happened en route, and I ended up in Amsterdam rather than Frankfort, so it was no wonder that the luggage ended up somewhere in the bowels of Gatwick airport and I was obliged to attend my German god-daughter’s christening in the jeans and T-shirt in which I’d been traveling.
(That was the four-day delay, which led to my being Really Tired of those jeans and T-shirt by the time I arrived in London two days after the christening, which in turn led to my washing said clothes in the bathtub of my borrowed flat with a bottle of shampoo (I’d arrived on a Sunday evening, nothing was open save the little shop down the road, and I had only two pounds in English money on me; all I could afford was a tiny bottle of shampoo and a carton of milk) and hanging them out the window to dry, only to discover that the humidity of a summer night in London is about 92%. I eventually resorted to drying my jeans in the oven, though I was still pretty damp when I squelched off to Selfridge’s in the morning to buy a fresh shirt and a pair of earrings before my first interview.)
You’d think I’d learn. But nooooo….I entrusted my luggage this time to USAirways (my current candidate for Worst Airline Ever, and I speak from vast experience), to be handed over to Lufthansa when I changed planes in Chicago. Not that I really had much choice; you can’t carry the Necessary for a week-long book-tour in a book-satchel, after all. I was not really surprised, though, to eventually reach Cologne and discover that my luggage hadn’t.
Well, one gets philosophical about this sort of thing, and the Lufthansa lost-luggage people kindly gave me an emergency overnight kit, with toothbrush, toothpaste, and a size XL white cotton T-shirt in which to sleep. I had my book-satchel with me, containing Kindle, takeoff/landing book (because they won’t let you read your Kindle during those periods), chocolate, and essential meds, after all—what else did I really need?
Granted, there was a photoshoot scheduled for the next morning, during which the German publisher proposed to get a new dust-jacket author photo. And while I could do interviews perfectly well in jeans, turquoise Uggs, and a turquoise plaid shirt (my travel ensemble), that seemed a little casual for the evening event at LitCologne, the city’s very elegant literary festival, for which I was meant to address the multitudes—in company with Cologne’s Vice-Mayor for Culture (Cologne has seven or eight vice-mayors, I’m told. And there is evidently quite a bit of vice, too; I was told that the new Metro was constructed by the German equivalent of the Mafia, who stole so much material from the project that a new underground station had recently collapsed—taking with it the state Archives (which was sitting on top of it) and destroying the biggest collection of medieval manuscripts in northern Europe) and Daniela Hoffman, the actress who reads the German audiobook version of my work, this event to be held on a ship cruising up and down the Rhine.
The resourceful publicist who’d met me at the airport checked me into the Hotel im Wasserturm (Hotel in the Watertower, and it is. Built inside an ex-water-tower, I mean. Interesting place. Wedge-shaped rooms. http://www.hotel-im-wasserturm.de/), then asked the desk clerk where to find a department store likely to be open in the evening, and we charged down the street in the rain (propelled by the enormous umbrella helpfully supplied by said desk clerk, which acted as a wind-sail) to Kaufhof, a monstrous store with acres of clothes, shoes, luggage, jewelry, etc.
One hour of frantic shopping, and I was hastily but respectably equipped with black short-sleeved sweater, black long-sleeved sweater, black pants, colorful scarf, a rudimentary makeup kit, gold earrings, and what my husband described upon seeing them as “fetish boots.” (see above).
Got up early the next morning and dressed in my new finery, went off to be photo-shot. The art director from the publishing company had chosen two locales for this: the basement of the City Hall, and the ruins of a bombed-out church. (Don’t ask me; I’m not an art director.)
The entourage included said art director, the publicist with me, the photographer, the photographer’s assistant (the hapless person whose job it is to hold immense reflectors and carry the tripod), and a nice young stylist named Xenia, who plied her art subtly enough that while I did look older than I do unadorned (_vide_ the less formal snapshots, which were taken that evening in a café with some local readers, after the LitCologne event, and the lovely rain-soaked one taken by my German translator coming down into the Moser Valley). I did not look like a prostitute, I’m happy to say.
I did nearly freeze to death. It had stopped raining, but spring had not yet sprung, and I tell you what, old stone buildings are C-O-L-D, especially if you have to stand very still on said stones for very long. The photoshoot took abour four hours, all told, and Xenia and the publicist took turns leaping forward to swathe me in coats and shawls whenever the photographer paused to change equipment.
The locales were actually very picturesque; the basement of the City Hall is open to the sky, and is the oldest part of the building, with arches and twining vines; they told me that it’s a popular site for weddings (preferably in warmer weather). The church is St. Alban’s, and the ruins enclose a very moving war memorial called “Grieving Parents”, which I think you can see here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/schroeer-heiermann/4124722676/
and in more detail here:
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Alt_St._Alban_-_Trauerndes_Elternpaar_%289127-29%29.jpg
(We were naturally not shooting near the sculpture, but off to either side.)
Cologne is also where I made rendezvous with my friend and translator, Barbara Schnell—who is also a photojournalist. You can see some of the pictures she took of the German tour here (click on one of the pictures to enter the site, then click on “blog” and you’ll see the entry for March 20th there is of the German tour):
www.bschnell.de
I had a wonderful time in Germany, but am glad to be back—and so is my luggage. [g]
Next time you find yourself in cologne without luggage you can borrow some of my clothes
Glad you made it back! I am new to your blog but a long-time reader of your books.
Anyway I can't imagine why it would take 4 hours for a photographer to get *one* photo for a dust jacket but I guess that's just me. =) If I was standing out there in the cold I'd probably have said "you get 15 more min" and be done with it!!
Dear SteveandAlina–
Ha. [g] The trick to getting a _good_ photograph is take a million of them and throw most of them away. Which is why professional photoshoots invariably take quite a awhile.
Great pictures! And you look so serene after the lost luggage and all! Welcome home.
Hi Diana,
Love the fetish boots.
And turqouise Uggs ! ! ! Wow !
Love the boots! My husband would _hate_ them, lol. The pictures look great. And I love your stories. Tangents are fun aren't they? [g]
Lady Oliver
This is off subject from your trip, but I wasn't successful trying to register at Compuserv, so I thought I would catch you here.
I have never bought a graphic novel before, but I am certainly getting The Exile. I have lurked at Compuserv and saw the thread about the GN. One poster didn't like GNs and wondered why you were doing it. I thought your answer made a lot of sense and very honest about the fact you want to reach more readers and why. Today there is an article in the Houston Chronicle about the University of Houston's new Graphic Novel Workshop that was very interesting. I have never given GN's much thought (until The Exile) and this article explained how the GN has grown over the years and why, who it reaches and how the subjects of the GN have changed. I felt the article basically echoed your opinion on Compuserv. If you are interested, here is a link.
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/6945397.html
Thanks for the great storytelling. I am especially waiting for LJ and the Scottish prisoner. Love both of those guys.
Have you ever heard Tori Amos' song Etienne? I always think it describes the Outlander novel so well….and it makes me smile.
Gotta say the "fetish boots" are super great. Reminds me of one of my college roomates favorite sayings. "You're boots may be for walking, but mine are in case I need to kick your ass."
Glad to hear from You!
Diana what do you think about Twilight's saga success?
My lady, not trying to be overly toadying, but you get lovelier and lovelier with each passing year. The picture of you in blue (aka, the traveling outfit).
Anyway, I thought Delta had the lock on worst airline ever.
I do dig the boots, though.
Diana, I know this is late, but I just came upon this article today: http://www.bakadesuyo.com/how-to-guarantee-your-luggage-wont-be-lost-or
Basically this guy is saying that he includes, and declares to TSA, weapon, which in reality is a starter pistol, one of those blank shooters that referees use in swim meets, in his luggage. He says that that luggage gets extra special atention because TSA of course does not want luggage with a weapon to be lost. Interesting issue.
Many thanks, Jesse! [g]
Mariella–I'm all for it. Anything that makes people read books is a Good Thing. Besides, I figure that eventually I'll inherit many of the readers of Twilight and Harry Potter, as they grow up. [g]
Hello Diana,
when I read your lost-luggage-story, I get a bit afraid of my upcoming East Coast USA trip. I hope Lufthansa manages to deliver my luggage in time…
I was at your book signing in Dortmund and I am still thrilled of your kindness and your brightly aura.
I love “Echo der Hoffnung” as well as all the other books of the series. Thank you for creating this marvelous and exciting world.
It was a big pleasure to meet you!
Auf Wiedersehen!
Dear Sonja–
Oh, I wouldn't worry; I've lost my luggage every time I go to Germany [g], no matter which carrier I have–but I've never lost it coming back! (It's just that there's no good direct connection from Phoenix to where I need to go in Germany, so I get multi-legged journeys, often with tight connections–and _that's_ where they fail to get the luggage transferred.)
Best of luck, and I hope you have a great time!
Hi, Diana! I love having discovered your blog. Hoping I've not totally overlooked this info–do you plan on visiting Los Angeles to promote Echo anytime soon?
I have to tell you – I just flew on Spirit Airlines (the most expensive no frills airline…ever) and asked the flight attendant if I could read my Kindle during take off. And he said "yes – no problem"! It was a good thing, too, because I'm on my first read of "An Echo in the Bone" and to say I was a bit anxious to continue reading would be an understatement.
Late to the party as usual (sigh); however, I have a question… You mentioned your Kindle and I am wondering how you like it. I am in the market for an ebook and there are now several to choose from. As someone who reads voraciously, would you recommend the Kindle over the others?
Completely off the subject of the post, I wanted to say thank you for the recommendation (if several persons removed) of the Felix Castor novels. They were amazing! I only wish I could get my hands on the most recent 2 books of the series without actually having to buy them. (My book habit was becoming a bit too expensive to maintain these days.) I was also wondering if you had read the Flavia de Luce Mysteries by Alan Bradbury. I thought they were very well written, clever, and amusing, and would recommend them to any of your readers who are patiently [g] waiting out the interim until you next book.
Ah… one minor correction. The Flavia books are by Alan Bradley, not Bradbury.