I have heard it said that you are never standing further than nine people from someone who knows someone who knows you. I can well believe it!
At a dinner in Oxford in 1968 I sat opposite a young man who worked for Oxfam. I initiated a conversation by asking him if he had studied at Oxford. I discovered, much to my surprise, that he had attended university in Dublin where I had lived and worked for 15 years.
On discovering my maiden name, he asked if I was related to Diana "X".
"Yes," I replied. "She's my aunt by marriage. Why? Do you know her?"
"Yes. My aunt was in Dublin last week visiting Diana."
By now the man's wife was listening, her eyes wide in amazement.
"I don't believe it!" she exclaimed. "Wherever we find ourselves in the world, I know it won't be long before he discovers someone with whom he has a mutual acquaintance."
I couldn't wait to tell Diana this piece of news! Fancy meeting a complete stranger and within seconds, establishing such a close link between you!
Twenty-three years later, my husband, Mike, and I were staying in a guesthouse in Cork. Our hosts were new to the business, having recently retired from a lifetime of farming. They were thoroughly enjoying the novelty of meeting people from around the world, a totally different scene from life on the farm. They obviously wanted to find out if we were in any way interesting!
I could see that, for them, there was something more attractive about the business than making money! They began telling us about a family from Surrey who had stayed there earlier that summer and had gone on to climb Carrigtwohill Mountain.
They had warned these guests about the dangers of climbing but the parents had replied that their daughter was an accomplished climber. She had been on an expedition to India three years previously and had climbed a 20,000-ft peak in the Karakoram. This was world-class adventure to them! As for me, I pricked up my ears, thinking: "It couldn't possibly be!"
I felt that this young lady was no stranger to me. When I discovered her name I exclaimed: "I don't believe it! My daughter met Jo in London last week. They were on that Indian expedition together and they were both in the mountaineering group so they have remained friends."
Our hosts were so intrigued that they stayed talking into the small hours of the morning. Couldn't they talk! I had to tell them about my daughter who happened to be in West Cork just then, working with a team of young Christians on a Beach Mission. I promised to take her to see them before returning to Britain.
Later, a young couple joined us at breakfast. The woman had an Australian or New Zealand accent. I asked her which it was and discovered she was Australian. The man was unmistakably Northern Irish. I wasn't sure if they welcomed my quizzing but I continued, determined to break the ice somehow.
On finding out that he came from Bangor, I remarked: "My daughter was invited to a wedding in Bangor next month but she'll be abroad so she can't go. The bridegroom is a fellow-student of hers at Aberdeen."
This snippet of information had the desired effect! He became animated and announced: "I know whose wedding that is - Holmes X's. I'm going to it. His sister is getting married later in the month and I'll be at her wedding, too."
"I don't believe it!" was my comment. "Tell Holmes how you met Annie's Mum."
Needless to say, our hosts were listening intently. We were acquiring some kind of mystical magic in their eyes. They were spending so much time listening to us that I wondered when their work would be done!
Next scene is a train travelling to London. Two young American girls with rucksacks are sitting opposite me. They look about my daughter's age and they also look friendly. I couldn't resist asking: "Are you from the States?"
"We're from San Francisco."
"My daughter visited San Francisco as a student before travelling on to El Salvador, supposedly to study Spanish but..."
Suddenly they sat bolt upright. "Don't say any more! What year was it?" they whispered, as their eyes grew wide in astonishment.
"Summer of 1992."
"Our friend, Tatra, was on that project but we were warned never to speak about it in public."
What was I hearing? They continued: "Tatra's life would be in danger if certain people found out about that trip. Would you like her name to give to your daughter?"
"Yes but I can't believe that in a chance meeting like this with you two we should discover such a link between us."
"Amazing!" they agreed. We had plenty to talk about.
Striking up a conversation during a long journey is a pleasant way of passing the time. Not everyone responds, however, although most people, once they get started, are communicative enough.
Travelling to Dublin by ferry in winter can be a hit-and-miss affair. One nickname for the HSS Stena is "Hope She Sails".
One afternoon some years back, the predecessor of the HSS didn't sail. Everyone was eventually accommodated on the old slow night ferry, but by the time I was aboard there wasn't a seat available. Angrily complaining, I was escorted to the reserved lounge.
I settled down in a front seat and stretched out, ready to fall asleep but worried about snoring. Then, a very large man asked if he might sit by me. He, too, admitted to snoring. He looked an interesting character, so the inevitable conversation preceded sleep, "yours truly", as usual, firing the opening question: "Are you going to Ireland on holiday?"
"In a way. I'm going to visit friends."
"Where have you come from?"
"Singapore. I work for the Foreign Office."
This man's responses were expansive! He obviously welcomed my probing questions!
"There was a girl in school with me who married a naval officer stationed in Singapore. I can't remember her married name but her first name is Gethin," I continued.
"I know them well - Gethin H and her husband. They are close friends of ours."
What an amazing discovery! He told me lots about Gethin and about life in Singapore among the ex-pats. I listened, spellbound. I was on my way to an old school reunion and I now had an interesting topic of conversation, as many would remember Gethin.
More recently, I was helping in Sutton Park at a practice run for the London Marathon when I started a conversation with a young woman whose husband was running. She wasn't taking part because she suffers from asthma. As my daughter also has asthma, we had a mutual topic of interest. Yes, I have kissed the Blarney stone!
"Do I detect a New Zealand accent?" I asked. Her reply was in the affirmative.
I discovered that she came from the North Island, so I casually remarked: "My sister lives in Opotiki."
"We often visit Opotiki as a good friend of ours, Carol Wheeler, has a fruit farm there - 'The Fruit Bowl Orchard'. Perhaps your sister knows it."
"Actually, I think I noticed it last year when I was visiting my sister. Don't they grow and sell avocado pears?"
"Yes."
It was the avocado pears that drew my attention to the fruit farm as we drove past.
She and I then exchanged names and addresses. I was surprised to see that she now lives in St Albans, near where Mike and I used to live. We had a long chat and promised we'd be in touch.
Later, I rang my sister and discovered that she knows Carol Wheeler. Carol was amazed to hear how I had met her friends. The world is a small place!
Last October, on a long coach trip, I got chatting to a man whose family came from Cheshire. His name is Foster, so I mentioned that Richard Foster, a granduncle of my parents, had won medals in the Crimean War, serving with the 2nd Dragoons, the Scots Greys.
To my surprise, he told me that his great-grandfather, too, had won medals at Balaclava and Sebastopol, with the "Heavy Brigade". We wondered if we're related, as my parents' maternal grandfather was a gamekeeper on the De Vesci estate in Ireland and the De Vescis brought many of their workers from England, including some from Cheshire.
Wouldn't it be beyond belief if his great-grandfather and my great-granduncle were related! Could they even be one and the same person? Nothing's impossible!
If, like me, you are interested in people and possess the "gift of the gab" and are a Nosey Parker into the bargain, you may discover for yourself whether it's true that we are never further than nine people from someone who knows someone who knows us! Do test it!