“Good times and crazy friends make the best memories” – unknown

Travelling or staying with family and friends is always a mix of the good, the bad, and the occasional bizarre.  We’re pretty convinced that the good outweighs the bad, but maybe that’s just because we choose good friends.  The bizarre? Well, that’s probably just our normal.

As I’ve said previously, nobody is travelling much at the moment, so here’s a few short anecdotes. I’ll let you make your own judgement calls on which category they fit into.

It’s another dreary English summer day.  As we grind our way through the traffic on the Great North Road from London, Nanette and I are grumbling that the half-day lost due to an incompetent car hire company means we won’t have time to fulfil one of our top bucket-list dreams.  “I’ve wanted to see the Cotswolds for sooo long!” moans Nanette.  Friend M, ever thoughtful, chimes in – “Don’t worry, J and I are here for an extra week, so we’ll send you some pictures.”

Then there’s the time when I drove from Kirsty’s Canadian home to the US border and walked across to the guards on the American side, because a travelling companion had sent a worrying text message, then lost phone signal.  I thought it was bad enough having the agent tell me sternly “You’re in the US now son!  We’ll have to escort you back to the Canadians so they don’t arrest you!” What I didn’t realise was the guys in the observation tower were on full alert the whole time – because I had inadvertently left my hand in my pocket as I walked across. (Hey, don’t judge me – I’m an Aussie! The most dangerous thing we ever have in our pockets is a well-used handkerchief. Though, in COVID times, maybe that’s ….)

And, of course, I should include the time when visited Japanese friends in Tokyo.  Our friends are ‘bath fanatics’, so naturally (or maybe I should say ‘au naturally’), they wanted us to share their favourite pastime.  We arrived, locked our shoes in lockers, then the gents and ladies parted ways to adjoining complexes where, you guessed it, we disrobed and sampled the delights of bathing in burning hot pools, icy cold pools and nasty, stinging ‘spicy’ pools, then watched reruns of famous sumo tournaments in the sauna.  After an hour or so, friend T tells me “it’s time to join the ladies.”  He sees my concerned look and smiles as he hands me a blue bundle.  “It’s OK, everyone wears these nice pyjamas in the common areas.  Oh, and don’t worry about underwear.”

Which brings me to the final story in this rather random list.  We’ve just had a relaxing couple of days with friends at the Sunshine Coast in Queensland.  On the last night, friend C (lady) looks me squarely in the eye and asks, “what colour is your underwear?”  I’m just about to risk Nanette’s wrath and answer with a quip of “well, it starts off white, but …”, however, before I can form these witty words, friend C turns to Nanette and continues – “I’m about to put a load of whites in the wash and can throw yours in too if you like.”  So, in accordance with the traditions established by a long line of male travellers before me, I head to our room, rummage around through my luggage for the newest looking and most socially acceptable underwear I can find.  After confirming these are definitely clean and unused,  I quietly pass them to Nanette for submission into the communal wash.  Friendship, you understand, goes both ways.