Wednesday, October 31, 2007

spooky possums...

I love a coincidence. Especially a travel related one.

About 6 or 7 years ago a good friend of mine took his first ever overseas trip. He went to London as having an English mother meant he could get some sort of residency visa there.

He knew no-one in London except for an English visitor he met briefly one night in a pub in Sydney. He had mentioned to this fellow his intention to go to the UK and this fellow had said "Well if you do you can stay on my couch if you need to when you first arrive."

So thats what my friend did. (So only make that sort of offer if you really mean it!)

On his first night in London he went out for a drink. He got chatting to a fellow at the bar when he was ordering a beer, and this fellow, recognising my mates accent, asked where he was from in Australia.

"Sydney mate"

"Oh yeah? I lived there for about 18 months or so years ago."

So they got chatting. My mate mentions he is currently on someones couch until he finds a place to live an Lo! and behold, this fellow in the bar says:

"What luck - my flatmate moved out today - wanna rent his room?"

So he did. The very next day.

So there he was quite happily renting a room in Brixton in Sarf London. A couple of weeks in and one day he's idly perusing books on the bookcase when he pulls down one for a bit of a butchers.

He opens up the cover and there on the flyleaf is written MY NAME!

Somewhat startled by this event he asks the flat owner

"Why is Terry's name in this book?"

"Oh - he rented your room 10 years ago!"

In 1990 when I was on a years travel and headed for Iraq, Saddam Hussein inconveniently invaded Kuwait and buggered up my plans. At a loss as to what to do next as my Middle East itinerary was up the chute, I headed to London and found, through a series of tenuous connections, the aforementioned room in Brixton.

With 12 million people living in Greater London, and hundreds of thousands of flats - what are the chances of my mate ending up in the same bloody room that I rented?

(Now can you hear the "do-do-do-do do-do-do-do" music in your head?)

Two of my London flatmates in Brixton, 1990
L: Gwen with my birthday cake. (If it looks like a swiss roll with a household candle in it thats because it is) R: Delpha Clutterbuck. (I just LOVE that name).

Gwen and Siobhan in the kitchen,(where most of the fun was usually had).

Our Street. (Well - it was almost like this.)

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