Mr Peach may have hoped to have been spared the customary “kittens” that he births every time we travel up to the George Watson’s MUN in Edinburgh, as he had to remain in Shrewsbury. Yet this guiding light was not spared as before we had even set out, Jonty Small, our ambassador, inadvertently struck his head against a door frame and was taken to San. Next Ivan Tivodar – another of the delegates – did not arrive at the early breakfast and could not be found, and this was only 7.30 in the morning.
Under the careful management of Dr Oakley, we managed to make it to Edinburgh with neither loss of limb nor property. We set up our diplomatic headquarters in the extremely luxurious Haymarket Premier Inn and then a few of the delegates went for a stroll around the local area. In true Salopian style, many of our delegation arrived two seconds before we were meant to depart and there then followed a frantic preparation of notes and clothes. We then crammed into the two taxis and while making last minute changes to our resolutions, we were transported to George Watson’s College.
After we arrived and had had dinner, we attended the opening ceremony which contained the usual greeting speech from the Director of MUN and some unusual speeches from the Secretaries General - one of which started with the immortal line “I like fish”. Once these preliminaries were dispensed with, lobbying began for the different committees, whereby about 50 people bustle about each other trying to show why their resolution is better than everyone else’s.
On the rest of the evening I shall not dwell but shall move on to the conference proper on the following day. Each one of the delegates now became locked in deadly verbal combat with each other, and this day saw resolutions rise and fall until the early evening when we retuned to HQ. Having recovered from our cerebral and diplomatic trials, we then changed our clothes to something more compliant with dancing. For soon after we would leave for the highlight of the George Watson’s MUN: the annual Ceilidh. This is an extremely enjoyable event, in which all the delegates partake in a selection of Scottish reeling dances, one of which is called the “Danger Dance,” as the boys link arms and spin around while their partners hold on to their shoulders; this results in the girls being lifted of the ground and spinning around at nearly 90 degrees.
After a very late night, the final day crept up on us like a thief in the night and before long we found ourselves in the General Assembly and then the closing ceremony. Pleasingly half the Shrewsbury contingent won awards and there were many Facebook profiles being swapped, as friends made over the conference sought to keep in touch. On a final note, I think it is fair to say that as all of delegates left George Watson’s they were filled with a glow of satisfaction and a strong desire to return.