Happens occasionally and sometimes its just great. I met an old boy and his wife on holiday sitting outside the cafe in Alfriston today. I just mentioned the (extortionate) price of a cheese sandwich and before we knew if we were chatting like old mates, I would gladly have stayed chatting to him about this and that for the rest of the day. Are they all like that in Oldham? Lovely moment in the middle of a very enjoyable day on the bike. Magic.

Am sure this will be seen as willy waving but here goes….

Last year, in Barbados, I was bobbing around in the sea, enjoying the sunshine, when a lovely old local lady swam over towards me. She was 80 if she was a day, but so wonderfully glamorous and composed. Stunning.

A gentle nod, a brief “good afternoon” and after a minute or two talk turned to cricket. She knew everyone in Caribbean cricket. Never name dropping, but just talking about some of my childhood cricketing heroes. We spoke for about an hour or two. As I had shown an interest, she said to me, in the most delicious accent, “I’ll be back for a swim tomorrow. Same time. You know where to find me”.

Needless to say, I was there.

It’s not exclusive to, but is characteristic of the North West of England.

It’s a bit contagious too; I’ve stood at a bus-stop next to a lady in full face covering burqa/hijab dress and she said ‘I’m bloody freezing, should have put my big coat on’ which led to half an hour of chat about weather, kids, schools, cookery and cricket.

Am sure this will be seen as willy waving but here goes….

I reckon you’re probably safe there…. imo your conquest of an 80 year old bit of crumpet, is unlikely to be seen as willy waving.

It was under water, Ernie. No one could see. 😉

Crikey didn’t you ask if she wanted to borrow your bomber jacket??

I just mentioned the (extortionate) price of a cheese sandwich

Go on then, how much was the sandwich?

Has anyone seen the trick where the old duffer keeps you occupied while the kids rifle through your pockets?

Bomber jacket? Snorkel parka more like…

I do find I have to bite my tongue when I go to that London and sit next to folk on the tube; in Manchester I’d chat away to who ever I sat next to, in London it’s just not the done thing, which is odd because people seem to be as friendly when you do talk to them.

At a festival I was playing at on Friday night – bit the worse for wear later on we got randomly talking to a couple of guys who seemed alright, they came back to our van and we had a few drinks etc – turned out they were both outdoor instructors and we had a fair bit in common and we had a very nice time.

Have had experiences in the past where you get chatting to random people at silly o’clock then you gradually sober up and realise that you don’t really have much to say to them. 🙂

£6 for the sarnie.

United by a love of moaning. 🙂

I was sitting on a bench enjoying the seaview the other weekend just down the road from my house when a dog appeared and i started to pat it. It’s owner arrived and had a very glasweigan accent. Being from there myself we started to have a chat, 2 hours later we were like old mates and I had a beer with him last night. Fantastic bloke, has lived here for 37 years and him and his wife live about 6 doors away. He must be about 75 but he has more spark in him than about 80% of my 25-45 yr old staff !!

It happened to me four times on my ride in the Ribble valley and Bowland yesterday:

A South African from Durban with a broken gear cable (nowt I could do to help)

An old boy on a tourer heading for the Clarion cafe – rode along with him for a few miles chatting.

A middle aged lady with a horse in a box, (equine equivalent of bike on car rack) we chatted in Dunsop Bridge about bridleways and access rights.

A family with a son the same age as my own, all three on nice road bikes, we chatted for a long time also at the cafe.

Had a great chat with all of them, loads in common (except perhaps the old socialist!) and wished I had more time. People are generally very friendly if you take the time to speak with them.

Theres a trail on Holmbury hill/Surrey that had been blocked to stop riders riding it (Ancient site etc etc) whilst another access point was provided (this is going back a few years). Someone had trashed it/ridden over it etc so they could still ride the original route and I was there rebuilding the blockage when two oldish ladies rocked up with their dogs and started talking to me. We sat down and carried on talking whilst I stroked and made a fuss of their dogs. One of the ladies was very intriguing, interesting and full of questions. We talked for a while then bid our fairwells.

Transpires she owns a large slice of the hills round there.

That was my Mum.

Once met a Zimbabwean woman on a train to Brighton, we chatted for ages and she had traveled all over the world and even worked on a few cruise ships. Very interesting person.

We sat down and carried on talking whilst I stroked

8)

Stopped to chat to an old guy at the top of Garburn pass, who told me all about his life as a climber, and when he remebered first seeing people dragging cruisers up Hellvelyn in the early seventies.

“It’ll never catch on” he though. So we laughed about how much cycling has changed since his time, and then he said, “you might know my grandaughter, she a professional cyclist, Jessica Varnish, you might have heard of her ?”

Yup, I’ve heard of her. He then told me all about when she was a kid, and used to frighten her parents by pulling wheelies down the drive when she was about 4, and then would regularly beat all the other kids in races.

He then said, “well, must be off, it’s my birthday today and I’ve got to get across High St to get the ferry back, must dash or I’ll miss it”

I said, “if you don’t mind me asking how old are you ?”

“70 today, and feel great, well must get on, bye” and then bounced off into the distance.

What a dude, I’ll never forget him

A Saturday afternoon last autumn on the seafront at Burnham, sitting there with my road bike having my mid-ride coffee & bacon roll when a very doddery looking old lady comes up with her tartan shopping-bag-on-wheels.

“Did you watch the Tour Of Britain stage yesterday” she says “wasn’t it exciting? What a shame Cavendish wasn’t in there at the finish! Last year my daughter drove me down to see it…”

Etc etc. We had a lovely chat…

meet loads of folk in thier homes in my work. the older they are the better.
one old girl (89) told me how she used to be a delviry driver for ford just after the war and how they pick cars up from the railway staion how she delievered the first motorhome in the uk and amazingly that she cheated on her fiance whilst he was fighting jerry for 4 years! he came back and they lived happily ever after..

Travelling down a nice wide bridleway I cheerfully said hello to a bloke in his 50’s walking in the same direction. As I got to the end of the track I stopped for a smoke break (don’t judge me!) and noticed I was getting a slow puncture so started to repair it. 10 min later the bloke caught up and offered to help me. After noticing Gordon highlanders, royal signals and sas cap badges on his baseball cap I asked him if he served (I’ve served and I get annoyed seeing people wear mil stuff they are not entitled too). Anyway, turns out he was a gordon highlander, transferred sass, served malya and Yemen. Came back, met his wife at a pub in the brecons, left and joined signals to get a more settled life. To cut a long story short he was genuine original and I could have spent all day listening to his stories but restricted it to 2hrs! Turns out he was in his 70’s and walked 10 miles a day (he proved it by showing me his gps!). Very random meeting!

The Orcadian island of Papa Westray is 4 miles long by 1 mile wide and no more than 300 m high. You’d think walking round it in a day would be a doddle, but I’ve never managed it because every time I’ve tried I’ve met people who made me feel I’ve known them forever and had long involved discussions ranging from the pyramids to land rover carburetors and from killer whales to seaweed eating sheep