This post should probably feature several photos, shot with a wide aperture and very close-up, of a random selection from photos of the edges of coffee-cups, a smoothie, food, the corners of a couple of local-branch-line train tickets, someone else’s sewing project, a berry-stained jersey top, the head on a pint, and, to be truly representative, various newfangled and confusing bits of modern technology (e.g. an iPhone without a whole cobweb of cracks across the screen). Possibly also some spectacular bits of post-war architecture, except that that would probably give the game away.
However it does none of those things, because I didn’t take my camera, and nor, when it came to it, did anyone else. Although incidentally photos are making their way, slowly, towards this blog, which I took the previous weekend, and watch this space.
Sadly no cake was consumed, however instead there was a fantastic South American meal, plenty of coffee, smoothies, sunshine and Nandos, and as previously mentioned, a rather good pint to round off the day. And as for the title, well, it was a mini-road trip. A road trip of precisely one day, and only for some of us. It might seem daft to traverse half the country for lunch (and in all fairness, traversing isn’t quite what we did since we actually drove more or less due North (excuse my dreadful geography for this probably isn’t quite right) and then drive home again in order to climb into bed sometime not a million miles after midnight, but that’s exactly what we did. We left home early, and departed for our home towns far later than we should.
It’s strange, the things you do and do not know about a person you’ve never met. Obviously you don’t know what they look like, how they behave in conversation, how they laugh and smile. You know no more than the vaguest details about where they live and with whom and what they do with their days; you know more about their politics and how they think than you do about any of those things. And yet, it turns out – and this shouldn’t be a surprise – what you need to know about someone in order to click with them is exactly those things – how they think about and mentally approach life, how they think about politics, the things that move and interest them enough to make them write about them and say, look at this, look at that, and no, I think you’re wrong, and here’s why.
Yes, it’s becoming rather a habit. Or rather, I’ve done it three times now. I met some People from the Internet. And so far this summer I think yesterday might have been my favourite day. We all, collectively, absolutely clicked. I honestly think anyone watching our group would probably have assumed that this was a summer reunion of university/newly graduated (given our ages) friends, and not a group of six people in which six of the fifteen possible connections between us were completely newly made that day, and many of the other connections were incredibly long-distance, long-term and/or sporadic at best. That said some of the group were old school friends, and two of the key players are in fact engaged to one another, so it wasn’t exactly a mass Blind Date.
Anyway. It was interesting, certainly. There was a lot of laughter, and some incredibly interesting conversations, and a lot of chat about gaming which I know nothing about and on which I won’t even try to comment. Politics, physics, medicine, history, law, phlogiston, fencing, climbing, music, cats, religion, probably money and sex – nothing was left out. Thank you, one and all.
(I actually wrote a post this time. Last time I didn’t, because I didn’t know how to be clever enough about it. As was probably established yesterday, anonymity is not something I can do…).