It’s been a strange day.....perhaps that's because it started on scapegoat hill! This morning got off to a bad start, one where my pre-booked alarm call didn’t happen, so I leaped out of bed with just ten minutes to spare before meeting my colleague for breakfast, which turned out to be a depressing affair of ditsy serving staff, very poor quality food and dark, gloomy surroundings. I don’t know if I’m not ‘British’ enough but I was so cheesed off that when the hotel receptionist asked me if everything was OK with my stay, I couldn’t resist explaining that it had all been decidedly not what I’d expected. I think we too often just say ‘yes, fine’ but that doesn’t give the hotel any chance to put right their problems. I think it’s better to say what’s wrong rather than to simply stop going there……mind you, I have no idea when, or if, I will ever get to go there again anyway so I don’t suppose in the long run it mattered because I may never get the chance to see if it’s improved.
After my meeting, I set off for the three hundred and fifty(ish) mile journey home with some excitement despite the bad start to the day. I am on my way (and typing this on a train) to the private viewing of an art exhibition in which I have five photographs exhibited. That is, of course, utterly hypocritical of me given that I have no time for art and art galleries. I just wanted a way to show some of my pictures and this was the easiest way to achieve it. So, I swallowed my pride and my cynicism and entered five framed photos. There is a private viewing tonight and DM and I are off to see what they’ve done with my work. I am excited, however much I feel as though I have gone across to the ‘dark side’ by doing this.
On my journey, as I often do, I encountered someone with whom I got chatting and exchanging stories of our journey. This is one of the pleasures of travelling for me, these chance encounters with human life that I would never encounter in any other way. I’m a lover of these half-hour conversations and have recounted several of them in these pages before now.
In some senses, it’s easy to see why a chat with a fellow passenger is a bit of light relief when compared with standing in a corridor, littered with suitcases and people and the prospect of no seat for two hours between Wakefield and Birmingham. Anything to relieve the boredom and discomfort is to be welcomed. In the event, we both found seats later so only ended up standing for half an hour or so.
My travelling companion asked me where I was heading and when he heard I was travelling all the way to Cornwall, he was very sympathetic about the journey ahead of me. He’d only ever been into Cornwall once in his life, as a teenager on holiday with his parents, but he had fond memories of it and was looking forward to a day in his future when he would return.
In exchange, I asked him about his journey and I found myself being glad of the length of mine, when I found out where his journey was taking him. He was going to see his best friend, in an intensive care ward in Selly Oak hospital in Birmingham. The friend had been on active service for six months in Iraq and had been deeply relieved to come through such an ordeal unscathed. His next posting was to Afghanistan – he thought it would be a doddle compared to Iraq.
He was wrong. He was in a non-armoured Landrover doing a routine patrol when the Taliban struck. He was one of three in the vehicle. One got out with cuts and superficial wounds, one came out with a broken spine and will never walk again and him? Well, he had his leg blown off and now has to look forward to a future with only one leg.
My travelling companion was distressed and unsure how he would cope with seeing his friend in such traumatic circumstances. He’d elected to travel to and from Birmingham in a day rather than stay in a strange city overnight after his hospital visit. He didn’t want to let his friend down by showing how upset he was and was fearful of breaking down in the ward.
I do hope my companion, whose name I don’t know because it was a casual encounter and we didn’t introduce ourselves, has coped with this experience. I hope too that his friend is strong and that he finds himself a life filled with happiness, not despair. My companion told me that he’s got a great, positive outlook and considers himself lucky. You have to admire that sort of courage.
It sure does put waking up late and having a crummy breakfast into perspective doesn’t it?
So, miss clever clogs – what’s this contrived pic got to do with the subject eh? Well, it’s simple really. The one in the front is a chilli (obviously), the one in the back is a sweet Ramiro pepper that is probably 20 times the size of the chilli that’s in focus – see, it really is just a matter of perspective!
There are some photos of which I'm really proud. The one I took this time last year is one of those!
