What's this? Journalism? But I haven't even read any Hunter S. Thompson! "How could this happen!" I hear you cry, "What have we let ourselves in for?" Well, here's my version of events, whether they correlate with what actually happened is another matter! I first realised that I would have to start looking for an outfit when Martin rang me one Saturday, telling me I'd been short-listed for an interview out of more than 50 people. Half speechless, half chewing on a semi-digested piece of food, I managed to garble some kind of over enthusiastic ‘Thank you,’ and proceeded to listen fervently to all the details of where and when. I put down the phone, slightly shaking, and instantly panicked, realising I'd forgotten most of the conversation in my adrenaline-fuelled endeavour not to come across like someone who is always half speechless and half eating. The interview By some kind of miracle I managed to get to the interview on the right day and time, even if it did take me a while to find the entrance to the BBC in Norwich. After letting them know I was here, Martin sprang up behind me, and asked me to come outside. I'd never seen Martin before, so as far as I knew, this was a bodyguard coming to kick me off the premises, or (and I have no idea why this was so quick to spring to mind) strip search me in the middle of the bustling forecourt of the impressively huge Forum in Norwich. Turns out this wasn't the case (surprisingly), and we did the interview outside. How very modern. I won't take you through the entire transcript, but I can't believe I didn't foresee the first question: "If you could report on any event throughout history, what would it have been?" "The fall of the Berlin Wall," I said, astonished at my usually non-existent quick-thinking abilities, "I'd just love to report on something with that kind of freedom and liberation." Nice one, Mike. I don't know where you pulled that from, but it sounds like it worked. Once they rang me up later that day and told me I had, in fact, got the job (!), I had to attend a training day in Bristol with all the other new Blast reporters. Getting there was a bit hectic, as I was in Paris the day before, and had to jump (not literally) straight from the Eurostar to a somewhat hotter train to Bristol. Training in Bristol  | | There's me, hiding at the back |
I met my mentor, Rachel, along with Martin in a big, posh hotel, and we went out for a meal on the BBC tab. It was all really nice, if a big daunting and I felt a bit like Bill Murray in Lost In Translation with that big room all to myself. I had a bit of trouble getting to sleep, but after finding the kettle and making a hot chocolate at 3 o'clock in the morning, I started to drift off. The next day we met up with the rest of the Blast reporters at the BBC training centre in Bristol. You could tell straight away that everyone was feeling the same sense of overwhelming nervousness, which was comforting. The weekend was really exciting. As people started to talk more and come out of their shells, you could see the wide range of personalities and talents that had all come together, and that was something really exciting and refreshing in itself. While training for writing and the various procedures and programs we would use, it started to get a little scary again, as the enormity of what we had to do when we got back started to dawn on us. At first it wasn't too bad as we all knew how each other felt, but now we're back, the only other people who have the slightest idea of what we're going through are scattered across the country. I'm sure we'll manage. As they say, "Isolation breeds eccentrics and revolutionaries." I'm not sure if they do say that, but it's a nice thought. On the Job So, now the real experience starts. My first day yesterday was filled with around eight hours (eight hours!) of a health and safety video, but at least I now know how to report on a yacht race safely - I'll be doing a lot of those. Today should be more productive, with pieces on the new Willy Wonka film, and the Norfolk Youth Music Theatre’s production of Les Misérables already in the pipeline. Ok, I should probably start to do some work; I don't know how long I'll get away with doing this over-long self-indulgent diary before people start to get suspicious. Look out for my first articles coming soon, and wait in tense anticipation for my next diary entry, sure to be filled with panic and the words "I can't be a reporter!" Mike x | 
