Pynchon

It's very strange. In the immediate aftermath of Hen and Oz leaving I was thinking to myself that there was actually very little to write about. They stayed with us for two nights, we wandered around Birmingham, they did a (little) bit of shopping, we saw a film (Yay!), Hen slept, Oz watched DVD's and some football with me and then they left. But it's not true. I started scribbling down some things last night, to write up today, and the list got bigger and bigger.

So, here we go, before my memory starts playing tricks on me.

Tuesday.

During the morning I went to see "Secuestro Express" .



It is a thriller, set in Caracas, about the improvised kidnapping of a young, wealthy couple for money and the events that unfold (in real-time) after that. There was a review in the free Metro newspaper that said that "Secuestro Express" is overly stylised, nasty and exploitive. Yes, I would agree with that, but it also good, fast and relentless like a juggernaut. You get a real feeling for the conditions in a society that creates extreme wealth and extreme poverty, and how it would breed this kind of extreme behaviour by some people just to survive. I thought that it was marvelous and I was gripped by it from beginning to end.

After that I went home to be greeted by a couple of phone calls.

The first was an anonymous call telling me to ring "Your Bank" on what seemed suspiciously like a mobile number, so I deleted that. Bullshit. If it is legit and they really want me, they will call again.

The second call was from Hen asking if we could put them up on Tuesday evening (we originally expected them on Wednesday). I tried to call back, but the number was coming up as not recognised.

The next call was from Lorraine asking me to give her a call. I did. Hen had called my work number, spoke to Lorraine and had got basic directions on how to get to us. They were on their way.

Panic!

I finished tidying the front room. I redusted. I put the clean sheets on the bed. I picked up stuff. I ran around the house. Moon the Cat looked at me like I was crazy. I had a shower. I checked the answer phone in case somebody had called while I was in the shower. (They hadn't.) I put on my Hawaiian shirt, to show off.

It started to rain. Typical. The previous two days had been sunny and warm. I think I read that June 12th had been the hottest June 12th on record in Birmingham.

The phone rang. It was Hen. They had arrived in my area of Brum and were lost. I gave them basic directions. They seemed OK with that. I said that if they looked to the left, when coming up my road, that they would see a man in a Hawaiian shirt waving. I went to stand on the doorstep.

And they arrived. And, yes, I did wave.

I have been reading Hen's blog for a couple of years; Oz's less than that (and he has more or less stopped now anyway.) I have been very lucky in that the handful of Blogger's that I have met (Mark, Graham, Swiss, LB) have all been good people and pretty much what I have expected. Regarding really knowing people, Oz was always a bit of an enigma, but I did feel I knew Hen pretty well. We had corresponded outside of the blog and she had been very helpful and constructive with advice on some things. I won't go into those here.

I am glad to say that meeting them totally lived up to my good expectations. Hen was exactly what I thought she would be like. Warm and friendly. Oz is not enigmatic or standoffish at all. One of the good guys. Open.

I gave them the quick tour and let them settle in. We had a drink. Oz was determined to drink tea, when not on beer, while in the UK. Hen had to wait for a coke to cool down. (I only had diet stuff in the fridge.) We chatted about lots of things. We talked a lot. It's a cliche, but it was like meeting old friends that had corresponded but not seen each other for a while. How weird. Perhaps this happens a lot, now that people all over the world are talking to each other on the Internet. We all become friends that correspond and rarely meet.

Lorraine arrived home. We agreed to go out to eat.

We went to Celebrity Balti on Broad Street. I suppose that the Balti connoisseur would say that Celebrity Balti is not a true, traditional balti as it not part of the Balti triangle, but we have always liked it. Good food, good prices and easy to get to on public transport. On this visit, the food was good (Oz was very impressed by the table naan, that was so big it had to be folded to fit on the table), but the service was not great. When we arrived, we were shown to our table and left for ages before we could get any attention to order a drink. (Indian Beer is nice.) The food came quick enough (I cannot remember the starters, but the mains were two Korma Chicken Balti's, a Chicken and Mushroom Balti and a Masala Chicken Balti), but again we could not get any attention when we wanted to pay and leave.

Home by taxi. The bus would have been a long wait. Lot's of water (the Balti's had dehydrated us) and then it was time for bed.

I will carry on later. Real life intrudes.