It turns out that ten degrees centigrade is the perfect temperature for such a meeting, and candle light is the perfect lighting. Nobody can read documents, there's no internet and no powerpoint, and the chill encourages an admirable brevity to the proceedings. Also, if you get bored with the speakers, there are bats to watch.
After the AGM bit there were fire-dancers juggling, shadow-fighting with swords of flame and a girl twirling inside a burning hula-hoop to the sound of a live band, which included a skinny lad with enormous hair who played the washboard.
After that, we all put on hard hats and descended into the UnderCavern to see illuminated pools, coloured a delicate clear green from the reflective mica in the slate.
Really, the only minor disappointment to the meeting was that we arrived late (due to fog coating the roads like the ghost of cotton-wool), and thereby missed the mulled wine and our pasties had gone cool.
