It started with a random comment on a blog.

A few months back, I blogged about a rather famous party at my school and, last week, Helen left a comment. It’s always exciting to get comments on my blog- especially when the commenter is someone you haven’t spoken to for 25 years. Helen was at the party too.

I mentioned that I was coming to England for a visit and, a couple of emails later, the reunion was on.

It was supposed to be just a coffee at lunch time but Helen asked Jo, and I asked Mark and the coffee turned into a meeting at a bar in the evening. 8pm at Hall Place. (is there a bar at Hall place? *shrug*)

I got there early and, having not slept for more than about 6 hours for over a week and, being super-jet-lagged, I managed to catch 17 minutes of sleep while I waited.

I woke up in time for Mark to arrive and catch up on the missing years (Mark and I started school together on the same day in 1971. Mark is in this photo, can you spot him? He hasn’t changed.)

Helen and Jo arrived just after 8 except that it was Wendy and Jo (Sadly, Helen couldn’t make it).

The memories flowed and flowed.

We were sharing our stories of teacher on pupil violence (stay tuned for mine) and of romances past and of who was married to whom when a man walked in. He looked oddly familiar and he obviously knew who we were.

I had instantly recognized Wendy but it took me a moment to remember David’s name! David said he didn’t care much about people from the old days but he said if I cared enough to cross the Atlantic, he should probably care enough to stop by on the way home from work. I am glad he did!

We had a great time (at least I did. I should let the others speak for themselves). I could have talked all night…and we would have if the bar staff had not turned the lights down and sat on a table sighing obviously.

I enjoyed it all the more for being so spontaneous and I am looking forward to the next one in 2044. We’ll be 68. Maybe the rest of you will show up next time.

UPDATE: It’s 3:30am. My flight leaves in 3 hours and I still haven’t slept. As Geir used to say on a big powder day at Tahoe: You can rest on the lift.