A newbie’s first tweet up

Kirstie Pelling author of The Family Adventure Project was also a novice tweeter once upon a time, she writes a hilarious account of her first Tweet up and then gives tips on how you can avoid the same dilemma

This summer I have been invited to speak on travel blogging at BritMums Live; a two day gathering of UK parent bloggers. It got me thinking back to my first ever blogger’s event at World Travel Market. I was Dick Whittington, off to London in search of golden contacts, crossing the world by day at Excel and by night attending blog camps and tweet ups. But did I need a sleeping bag for a blog camp? And what the devil was a tweet up?

I arrived early, and nervously attached my badge. Most of the travel community were still on their way. How did I know this? Because they tweeted it. Every step of their journey, live as it happened. From the pavements, from their networking dinner with Visit Bermuda and from the cloakroom.

“Free cookie with my badge YUM! And free champagne! #cookie #freebie #excited.”

I wasn’t following all of them on Twitter and I hadn’t yet typed the tweetup’s hashtag into my phone. I was aware of their movements because the whole event was being summarised on a giant screen taking up a whole wall of the London Hilton’s conference room. And I mean the whole event. More than 100 bloggers, live-tweeting every last pearl of travel and party related chit chat in 140 characters. Sometimes it came in CAPITAL LETTERS with exclamation marks!!! If it was said, it was in danger of being tweeted. And retweeted.

“RT Just bumped into @singlesexyfuntraveldude at the door. And of course he’s in his shorts! #Iwanttobehim #socool” #greatbum

To a blogger who was fairly new to Twitter it was utterly terrifying.

My night’s work became clear. First I had to get up the bottle to speak to a roomful of bloggers I had never met. Then I was to sift out some philosophical or global gem from each conversation and bash it out in the semi darkness in 140 characters or less. I needed to keep one eye on the giant wall screen to check my tweets were witty enough, and another eye on people’s chests to note their @handle. I had to do all this while juggling a glass of champagne, a free cookie and my phone, and scanning the room for someone new to talk to, who may or may not be too cool for their shorts. To make it more complicated no one was really listening to anyone; they were just tuning in for soundbites and tapping them into their phone. Then someone announced there was a prize for the best tweet and the tapping intensified.

Could it get any worse?

Yes it could.
“Why aren’t you tweeting Mum?” texted my kids. They were in their dressing gowns, watching the live twitter feed from their Dad’s computer. I was being heckled from home. So I did the only thing a girl could do and went to the toilet and locked myself in. I sat on the toilet seat, trying to think up a tweet. But I soon found that when you are in the loo, attempting to write something clever in 140 characters under pressure, the only things that spring to mind are toilet related.

“Just making a smell down the corridor. Anyone got a match? #whiffy #jobby” wasn’t going to go down that well in the Hilton Double Tree and I’d be mortified if my bad smell was forever immortalised in a prizewinning tweet. I left the loo without tweeting or making a smell.

Now the heavy weight travel bloggers were arriving.

“Sooooooo excited to meet up with @activejane, now she’s back from Yukatan Yak adventure!  #presstripjunkie #freecocktails”

How did I know the superbloggers were in the building? No, not because they were live tweeting. Heavy weight travel bloggers don’t tweet at events like this. They don’t have time. They have just flown in from Jordan and have to leave in two hours for Puglia. They work the room for PR’s and DM’s, and rely on everyone else to tweet their presence.

“@Hostellingisahoot is now in the room. Hold on to your beers! #fun #craic #crazyirishguy”

I was a bit worried about my phone.

I wasn’t in possession of a blackberry or an iPhone, just a cheap handset from T-Mobile and I tried to hide it behind my wine glass when chatting to the luxury travel blogger sector of the room. In a conversation with @cruisingismyjoy I spilled my drink down my front. She offered to get me another and I requested one of the free champagnes waiters were handing out. It gave me a breathing space to think up something intelligent to tweet about our cruising chat apart from her recommendation that I should always insist on a balcony. She returned with a glass of wine, apologising that the champagne had run out as I was heckled again from home.

“You still haven’t done a tweet Mum!”

I hid behind a pillar, took a deep breath and an even deeper swig of wine and bashed out my first little masterpiece.

“I asked for champagne. Where’s my champagne @cruisingismyjoy?”

I looked up to the board where everyone else was tweeting about how great @bonkersbeachbabe looked with her mojito and a suntan, and I saw how petty my effort looked.
“@familyonabike. You are so awesome!” @cruisingismyjoy had tweeted at the same moment. I watched her reading the back- to-back tweets, her smile fading. I retreated to the toilet and texted to the kids that I was hiding in a cubicle until I could think of something nice to say. They texted back that they loved the last tweet and could I do more like that? I started to panic, writing and rewriting inappropriate tweets.

“Follow me @noone-nowhere and I’ll follow you anywhere. #mynomadichero #reallifesucks”

Could it get any worse?

Yes it could. Another text. This time from a friend. My son had skyped her son to say that Mum had locked herself into the toilet at a conference and was live tweeting from the loo seat and that they should check out #TBUtweetup for hysterical tweets about poo, wee or farting.

“Are you really live tweeting from the toilet at the Hilton?”

Aaaaargh! There was only one thing to do. I flushed. I grabbed a free bottle of wine. And I turned off my phone.

Tips for the newbie at a blogger conference:

1: Don’t worry that your tweets aren’t as good as theirs. Just bash some rubbish out saying how cool everyone is and go for a kebab.
2. If you can’t think of a witty line then tap the keys furiously anyway. If they don’t see your name on screen they’ll assume you have a second twitter account or are setting up a Google hangout.
3. Spill your drink into your phone then go snog a superblogger. You might get a free holiday out of it. But not if you are at a parent bloggers conference as they’re likely to belong to someone else.
4. Announce you are off to live tweet from the toilet to save time before the next tweet up. Real travel bloggers are always already tweeting about the next tweet up. Even when they are taking a leak.
*Names have been changed to protect superblogger identities.

Kirstie Pelling can be found in lots of places other than the loo. She writes at The Family Adventure ProjectShe tweets @familyonabike and you can find her on Facebook too