Band of Brothers....and Sisters

I drove to East London and back on Saturday. Seven hours in all, much of that courtesy of the city's south circular, reserved for those who find the M25 too relaxing. What brought on the desire to spend that long at the wheel of a far-from-luxury little car was the prospect of a few hours in the company of people I don't see often enough, including one I hadn't seen for 30+ years!

It was the latest in the inevitable crop of 50th Birthday celebrations that began a couple of months ago, and will run well into next year, what with the Class of '78 hitting that milestone in a spectacular burst of nostalgia-wallowing and resolute dysfunctionality.

I'm not one for re-unions for re-unions sake, although I still would have gone to see Led Zep at the O2 a couple of years ago if I'd only had a ticket. I'm listed as missing on my former college's website and while registered as an "alumnus" of my school, I ticked as many boxes as possible to minimise contact. In both cases this is partly because the institutions concerned will send regular begging letters otherwise, but also because if blood isn't much thicker than water, neither is shared history. Conversely, though, you choose your friends where you can't choose your family, and my largest surviving group of friends, however dispersed and rarely seen,remains my contemporaries from secondary school.

I suppose I'm dwelling on this because the Christmas card season is upon us, and I shall send and receive cards to and from people I have made little effort to communicate with in any other way for over a decade. Ex-colleagues from John Lewis and former university friends. Not that I wouldn't welcome a chance to catch up in principle, but in practice there aren't enough weekends in a year, and most are sufficiently far-flung to need a weekend, especially if it involves dragging the family along, be it mine to them or visa versa.

On Saturday it was just me, at least as far as Chiswick, where I picked up a passenger unable to get there under her own steam, and the two hours to get there were then matched by a further two hours to Lewisham. All my anti-metropolitan prejudices nicely reinforced there, anyway! But it was worth the effort. The main difference with a "gang" who were once so close, even if it was really only for a couple of years before we all left Chester for different lives, is that the conversation almost picks up where it left off, however long ago. I don't know why this should be. Partly it's pressure of time,the choice between small-talk and serious discussion without the opportunity for both. Also a sense that more can be "taken as read" - you know who I am so I don't need to explain myself. A very pleasant and relatively unusual experience, if only it could be repeated more often and without the intervention of the road system.