The Liberal Democrat conference in Brighton began so quietly that, at first, I thought it was a false start. Or, perhaps, a rehearsal session. Indeed, I would say that it opened with a whimper if that were not a slur on whimperers everywhere.

What if they gave a party and almost no one came? Well, now we know. The Brighton Centre seats thousands but the Lib Dems had removed all the chairs except for two central strips. I sat on the edge of one strip, a cavernous floor space to my right. The walls were black, the lighting terrible. It was like being in a flotation tank with lots of earnest people wearing yellow.

At least one third of the few hundred people there were asleep (or, as Lib Dems would say, thinking deeply with their eyes closed). And why not? Perhaps the Lib Dems were becoming the Lib REMs. Plus, just because you are wearing yellow does not mean you have to dance like a sunbeam. Ming Campbell was not there. He must have been napping elsewhere, although I cannot think why.

The opening speech was no more than a few murmurs from Lord Dholakia, who has been a Liberal for 51 years. He is from Brighton. “When I write my book it is going to be called From Pier to Peer,” he whispered, his words evaporating in the air. He said that Ming had gravitas (code for ancient but, still, a compliment) and that Labour had no ideas and the Tories were hopeless. “History will prove that Brighton will be a turning point in our future,” he soothed, his sussurating voice lapping away at his tiny strip audience snoring gently away.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, a man named Duncan Brack got up and said that someone had complained that the motions at Lib Dem conferences were too trivial. Around me, there was a rustling of yellow fabric. Duncan announced that he had thought about this deeply. “No, I don’t believe we are tabling motions that are trivial,” he said. If you disagreed, you could fill out your feedback form.

He then announced that there had been a complaint that Lib Dem motions were too long and detailed. He embarked on a long and detailed explanation of why they were not long and detailed. I closed my eyes (just testing) and hoped all stayed calm. They did not. The first debate was on whether there should be a boycott of Israeli academics. Jenny Tonge is a woman who feels the pain of Palestinians everywhere: indeed, she was fired from the Lib Dem front bench (hard to achieve) for her views.

“I am NOT an anti-Semite,” she cried. I waited for the but and it arrived sooner rather than later. “But, fellow Liberal Democrats, I am antii-njustice.”

She looked out at her airline strip. “Where are you Liberal Democrats?” she cried in a strangulated voice. “Where are you? Where is this liberalism? Stand up and be counted, each of you!”

I looked around furtively. Of the four people sleeping directly around me, two had their eyes open now. But then the chairman woke everyone up by uttering possibly the four most terrifying words in the English language: “Lembit Opik! Stand by!”

It is incredible but true that Lembit has gone from someone famous for loving meteorites to someone famous for loving a Cheeky Girl. But he does have a serious side (he is always saying so and so it must be true). He told Jenny that she was brave but wrong. The delegates, now all awake, voted with him. Well, I guess, all naps have to end sometime, even for Lib Dems.

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