This Is This

Coincidence this morning in the shape of helicopters.

At the rainy bus stop, Bus Stop Jeff asked if I’d been anywhere on my summer holidays yet. I said I had, told him about the weather and asked if he’d been away.

He said he went to the Scilly Islands (Man, I love my spellchecker - how can it know Scilly? What are the odds anyone would type fucking Scilly) getting there by train.

I knew that you could by a train/helicopter combo ticket to get there because I’d seen the posters and was very much attracted to a portion of that action.

Turns out he took the boat, but next time Bus Stop Jeff goes, Bus Stop Jeff vows to take the helicopter. Bus Stop Jeff did not actually use those words, because he is neither mad nor trying to create a side character in his blog post.

We had both been away the same week just gone, not far from each other as it happened, with me in north Devon. I had made a side trip to Lundy Island one day, also travelling by boat, although they make the crossing by helicopter when the weather is rough.

To be honest, I was hoping for rough weather, so I could ride in a helicopter, but that didn’t happen. The weather was bad, but not enough to keep the boat in harbour, so it was a bad crossing, with people around me being sick and apologising in posh accents.

BLEUUUUUGH!!!!!! “I’m so sorry.”

HWUEEEGHHHH! “Would you mind awfully closing the -” BLEUUUUUGH!!!!

So it’s Boats 2, Helicopters 0.

The bus pulled up and I sat next to a man in pinstripes who was reading Bill Bryson’s African Diary and he said “morning” and I said it back, seeing his “”morning” and throwing in a “good” before it. With the stakes raised, and some bluffing talk about the weather for a minute, he ups the ante.

“I hope if doesn’t stay like this,” he said, “I’m taking a helicopter trip this weekend.”

“A helicopter?”

“Yes I won it at a charity auction last week. It leaves from Biggin Hill (my spell checker does not know Biggin - ha!) and arrives at the Waterside Inn.”

He says “Waterside Inn”, not Bray, because he assumes I will know the restaurant, which I do. He is also very posh, and he’s going to ride in a helicopter and probably learn new words like cyclic, torque and autorotation.

“Have you ever been in one before?” I scan for signs that he may have a chopper-riding lifestyle. Safari hats, dog tags and an M16. That kind of thing. No. If you cut him open, you’d see the pinstripes went right through.

“No,” he said. “I’m quite looking forward to it.”

So he’d never been in one. Coincidence again, but a good one. And a friendly exchange.

Another in a wave of my synchro-nice-ities.

Eh?

Please yourself.

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