Conversations with strangers
I've come to appreciate the fleeting, chance encounters that occur when travelling by bike or on foot.
Hello. That’s my standard greeting. It’s safe, unoriginal – as befits someone who’s not a natural talker.
I remember feeling, as an awkward teenager, visceral horror at the prospect of being drawn into a conversation while I was out and about. But now I rather enjoy the interactions that journeys on foot or by bike induce.
A passing interaction on the trail has its own qualities, quite unlike those of the unhurried, sporadic conversation on a long-distance train journey. Wayside chats are brief vignettes, sometimes quite surreal and often more memorable for it.
A few years ago, I was cycling alone across a bridlepath on an expanse of common land. The landscape, lush under the summer sunshine, seemed entirely empty. And then I spotted, in the distance, a horse and rider stopped where another path crossed mine.
They stayed still as I approached, a gentle breeze stirring the horse’s tail. It felt like we had slipped into a scene from a movie. Maybe the camera was viewing us in a long shot, two tiny shapes – one edging nearer the other. Perhaps a slow, orchestral soundtrack.