waider | ...and in the other pub...

Broenwynn arrived last night, and we ditched bags at the house and went to the pub, pretty much. So we're each on pint number two when a familiar-but-unfamiliar figure walks in the door: Colin, my old barman who joined the army. Seven weeks basic training has, we agreed, transferred bulk from his stomach to his shoulders. Much to my surprise, he appeared to have turned up in the bar "on spec" - with no plans on who he was meeting - since he sat with us, bought us both pints, and stayed there until we lurched out some time later. A few of his friends came in and joined us, and there was a bit of a small world moment when an Australian friend of his started talking to Broenwynn and discovered that they're both from roughly the same part of Oz. We left a little earlier than planned due to some confusion over Bron visiting the chip shop across the road and then not being allowed eat the food in the bar (legal health & safety reasons) and also general tiredness from jetlag on her behalf and Christmas on my behalf. Still, though, a very fun evening, and Colin's asked me to give him a shout if I'm heading out again before he goes back to boot camp.