Early on in my blog life I mentioned that I don’t believe in co-incidence.
This has happened to me way too many times.
A few posts ago I was in England, at my old school in North Devon, UK. This took me back to the places I remembered like Bideford and Barnstaple, and although I didn’t mention it in any of those posts, curiosity piqued me to look up Lundy Island.
Lundy Island was visible every day, except when shrouded in fog, from the terrace of Lakenham House, the dormitory where I lived for two years. I never knew anything about it except that it was populated by puffins. Which made it a good place, as far as I was concerned. I yearned to go there, but even today it’s not that easy.
However, the Internet can take you anywhere, so I decided to pay a belated visit.
I was spared the two hour ferry ride which sounds rather an ordeal if you are not a good sailor.
And the steep climb to the top of the island. Although there is apparently a Land Rover service and even an excellent electric scooter for those who need it.
Lundy Island is 3 miles long and half a mile wide but if you are so inclined it is reportedly a great place to walk and discover Nature.
You can even stay overnight and the facilities and staff are highly praised.
Isn’t that lovely? Definitely my kind of place. A bit draughty at times, I’m sure.
That’s all very nice. I am so glad I finally got to see it. But the fact is, until I started writing about being back at school in England in 1964, I had not thought about Lundy Island for a single second. Nothing. Gonzo. The only vision I previously had of the place was a grey lump in the sea which wasn’t very memorable.
Recently, I acquired a copy of the new book by author Ann Cleeves, who I have been following for a long time. I love her books about Vera Stanhope and especially the ones about Shetland. So I order her books without reserve.
I began it the other day, and found myself reading about….Barnstable and Bideford and, yes, Lundy Island. I had not thought about Lundy for 55 years, until just the other day, and now here it is in this book.
Anne Cleeves never previously wrote about Devonshire. It’s a new series that I had not known about. And here I started to read it mere days after I was looking up Lundy Island and writing about the very places she mentions.
Co-incidence? This happens to me all the time….
Last year when I was packing my books, I came upon an obscure child’s tale about a bunny with wings, that my mother read to me when I was very small. I remembered crying my eyes out and I was curious, all these years later, to discover what was so awful about the story, which is why I had a copy of the book. It’s called “Pookie”.
As I was looking at the it, Grant passed by on his way to his room, and I asked if they have this book in South Africa. “I don’t know”, he said, “but that’s strange, my dad used to call my sister Pookie”.
He proceeded to his computer and a moment later I heard him exclaim “Oh my God!”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I can’t believe it! I just went online and the first thing that came up was a reference to a book called ‘Pookie’, a story about a rabbit with wings”.
So can anyone explain that? Grant has his own computer. I have never touched it. I had never said ‘Pookie” out loud in that house before, so there is no rational explanation…
That I can think of.
Some things just can’t be explained. ESP, perhaps?