“How long will it take to get to the airport from here?”
“Forty-five minutes usually but as you don’t know the road I’d give it an hour.”
With this in mind I was content in the knowledge that if we left at 10:45pm we’d get to the airport in plenty of time. You can imagine the state I was in when at 11pm Brad was still munching away at steak/chop/kebab (delete as appropriate) from the barbecue and telling me not to worry and that we had plenty of time.
We did, but not because he said so, but because the flight was delayed. It seems every Ryanair flight anyone goes on, other than us, is delayed. Ours is always early or on time but never late.
I love meeting people at the airport. Seeing all the human interaction and knowing I’m going to be part of it soon. Seeing people smile as they step out of arrivals into the arms of a loved on. Seeing people nod as they see a sign with their name on and know they car must be for them.
Mostly I love it because it means people are coming to visit and I love it when then happens. Even when its people you haven’t seen for a while, years in fact, friends who you really care for but for one reason or another you don’t see as often as you should, if at all in some cases!
I’ve often found it remarkable how friendships built on one common interest can grow.
I joined blog many moons ago (when the “made by you” was “beta” and I was a founder member not a pro!) and began adding people to my friends list. They were only online friends though, not real people, so if I never blogged again it didn’t matter. Then we got that step closer in AIM or MSN or GoogleChat and these people became semi-real. They were still only virtual friends and although I was growing quite fond of some of them they were still strangers to me who I only knew through blog.
Then I exchanged contact details with one of these virtual people! He gave me his phone number so I gave him mine. As nervous as I was it still didn’t matter as he was still only a virtual person. Someone who was never going to ring as in the real world he didn’t exist.
This changed when I looked at the screen and saw “I’m calling” in the chat window. I held my phone in my hand and suddenly got all nervous. “Brad, you know that scouser from blog, the one from the Wirral, writes for the metro or some other free rag up there?”
“Yeah,” came his reply.
“He’s about to call me!”
Before the conversation could continue the phone was ringing. I was half tempted to hang up and then type a chat massage to him saying something like “sorry, foster kids need me!” or something like that but instead I actually answered. What’s the worse that could happen? We could actually become friends (lovers in the future x) and call each other again? We might meet? He was still going to be a virtual friend, he was still going to be that scally from blog!
A while later I made the mistake decision of doing an open blog invitation to my final birthday celebrations while living the UK. A few bloggers actually took me up on the invite. My real friends, those not virtual as the bloggers were/are, thought we were all swingers from some internet porn site but in reality we were a group of people with that one common interest.
These people, the scally included (who had an incredibly beautiful woman with him and I’ve still no idea how he managed that one!), suddenly became real. I’d read all about them, spoken to them on the phone, exchanged emails but now they were sat in front of me.
Things on blog really changed then. The people I was reading about became actual people. There were real, they had substance and I was beginning to feel ever closer to them. They, and others, became real friends.
“But how do you know them?” she’d ask.
“Through blog mother, we all blog together!” I reply.
“Well that just sounds mucky!”
“It’s a diary mother, an online diary and people read it.”
“Could I read it?”
“You could but you might not want to.”
“And you all know each other from there?”
“Yes.”
“Do you swap pictures and stuff?”
“No, I post a picture and people can look at it.”
“Not naughty I hope!”
“No mother!”
“I don’t get it!”
And she doesn’t and probably never will but she does read now and then.
“Who is Nici and K?” she asked.
“Friends,” I replied.
“Well I gathered that but who are they, you’ve not talked about them before.”
“I’ve talked about Nici mother. Abi. The american.”
“The one with the whip?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you do something with her on that site once?”
“I changed her blog design mother, that’s as far as it goes!”
“And they’re coming over?”
“Yes.”
“Well that’ll be lovely for you.”
She’s trying to be nice but she still doesn’t understand and never will and when father asks how I am she’ll say “don’t ask Roger, you won’t like it.”
We got to the airport in just as the plane was due to land but it was late so we actually had time to grab a drink. Unfortunately all the shops had shut and the machines didn’t take notes! Damn it!
We didn’t have to wait long before Nici & K arrived as as we hugged not only was a warming and heartfelt it was also like it had only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each and not a few years. I felt the same when giving K a hug and this was the first time I’d ever met her!
Once home we cracked open a bottle of wine and it was gone 4am before we finally went to bed after much catching up, getting-to-know-yous, and just general fun and chat.
Saturday saw us have a very lazy morning around the house and after a massive lunch of st
uff and salad we headed into Galway.
We forced the girls to kick the wall but they had to watch others do it before they did just in case they thought we were conning them into something and then we headed into town for drinkies. Galway Pride was on and all six people people turn up for it. Drinks in the Quays, where Nick tried her first ever Guinness which wasn’t up to standard, then a walk back to the car and off to the Duggans.
After coffee and cooing over Ruaidhrí we headed back home.
Brad cooked us all steak. Well, he didn’t cook mine but then again you don’t need to. With my steak you just wave it over the pan a little and then throw it on the plate.
More drinking and conversation and bedtime at some ungodly hour but all very much worth it.
Heading back to the airport on Sunday I think I was the only one who didn’t have a hangover but I wasn’t the only one who didn’t think we’d make it in time! Damn weather, funerals and traffic!
All in all the weekend was fantastic. It was wonderful seeing Nici again and meeting K. They are both lovely people. I’m a little annoyed that they didn’t take either of the cats as promised but there is a box in the hall, miaowing, that I really must post at some point!
