Two years ago, I decided to spend my time at South by Southwest Interactive shuttling newbies around my amazing city and its signature conference. One of the people I can across during this endeavor was Katz, my wonderful hostess this weekend.
As it turned out, she is one of the brains behind the b.tween conference, a confab of media thinkers and producers that moves around the United Kingdom. During our conversations at SXSWi, she invited me to Liverpool to moderate a panel on storytelling. I jumped at the opportunity and soon thus our friendship began.
Like so many friends I’ve met along the road, she’s extremely busy and so our schedules rarely have chance to cross for any extended length of time. Until this weekend. We had three far too short days to spend together, days that – as we discussed this morning – had almost nothing to do with work. Instead we:
- ate possibly the worst meal ever on Friday night with her friend Jo;
- went to a weird party for the cast of Alice at one of the big local theaters, which included a funky local band, a DJ and well-wishers and revelers;
- hiking Monsal Head and its surrounding areas, including a trip through a field with an (old) bull;
- ate Cream Tea and two different bowls of ice cream;
- ate the best pasta meal ever cooked at a little Italian joint down the street from Katz’s house;
- (I) went running through Endcliff Park and on through several other Public Paths and through a series of open fields;
- sat at the Rude Shipyard cafe complete with 2 no-longer strangers (Steve and Penny) who graciously allowed Katz, Jo and I to join them for what turned out to be a 4-hour conversation over breakfast, coffee, dessert and tea;
- watched (my first) David Lynch film, Mulholland Drive, while noshing on Ben + Jerry’s frozen yogurt and freshly cut strawberries and getting an education on David Lynch films (on which Katz did her thesis);
- took the bus to the train station where two older ladies 1) marveled at my accent, 2) helped me understand how buses work, and 3) asked me to take them with me to America – all to the delight of those around us on the bus; and
- drank my last cappuccino in Sheffield while we discussed our respective love lives.
People sometimes ask me if I’m ever inclined to settle down. The truth is I’m not. Which doesn’t mean that I want to roam the planet alone forever; however, it’s hard to imagine my life without Katz or any of the amazing people along my way who have opened up their lives and their homes and their towns for me.
As Robert DeNiro said in Heat: I am alone. I am not lonely.
As my train rumbles south towards London and I sit in my seat, relaxing until I face the throngs and masses in St. Pancras, I am yet again reminded about the beauty and the brilliance of traveling. About the kindness of people. The surprises of life. The serendipity that comes with being the Stranger in a Strange Land.
And the road, again, feels like my home.
***
Some visual memories:
The view from our cafe on the last day before we walked to my train station.
People watching mid-morning in downtown Sheffield.
The Monsal Head hike nearly killed me (especially during my long run the next day). But I’ll never forget the lush green-ness that was everywhere. It was like hiking in Emerald City. You know, with bulls.
My gorgeous and amazing guide and friend, sitting outside a small cafe in Ashford in the Water during our hike. We, in just a few short days, ate some sweets.
My student-photographers make fun of me for taking black-and-white pictures (because I don’t know what I’m doing). This is correct; however, I still love this picture of us as we start our hike.
And what would a night out be without attending a theater party. This is the mid-run party for Alice.
