This week we were in London, England. We had been out for drinks at the Canadian High Commission, as part of the run up to the Opportunities Expo at Olympia. We did a bit of mixing with other Canadian exhibitors. The speeches were mercifully short.
We went out afterwards for a drink with some of the other exhibitors (Anglo Pacific and HiFX). They kindly took us for one of the first of a series of curries. We went to a Masala Zone restaurant near Carnaby Street. It was a bit like being in Vancouver in being very multi-cultural. The clientele, the servers and those around our table were from all over the world.
Finally, and coming to the point of the posting, we headed off for the tube. I was reminded of one of the reasons I was glad to be in Vancouver. The tube was packed and there were delays on all lines. We did eventually squeeze on a Piccadilly line train. Sian, being a real Canadian, started to talk to someone next to her. No response. Of course the chances were quite high that he did not speak English. But even if he did, he probably thought Sian was nuts.
We are used to the ease with which you can start a conversation in Vancouver. If you meet someone at the checkout in Safeway or in the line up for coffee, it is natural to chat. It might be trivia, the weather or observations about what is going on around you, but you will likely say something and exchanging pleasantries, and smiles, just seems to come naturally to Canadians. Better than the automatic assumption that the talker is a nutter.
It was all very pleas