My endless (numbered) days: A year ago today

Kleine Scheidigg

So I'm sitting on the lounge with a terrible head cold, reminiscing about where I was exactly a year ago today.

I know exactly where I was; at a bus station in Dover, East Kent, feeling sick to the stomach and wondering what on earth I had got myself into. I was terribly anxious, not least because I was worried the coach wouldn't arrive and I'd be left in a deserted building too late to get a train home.

A week beforehand, I had been working in East Kent, living in hospital accommodation, and could count the friends I'd made in the UK on one hand. I had just secured my first locum position in London, and had just found a London flat to live in. I was moving in a week's time. I had been attending St Helen's Church in London for about 7 months; commuting a whopping 2 hours each way to get there by bus, train and tube.

Church was exhausting; each week sitting next to someone different (and equally welcoming), but not really meeting the same person twice. For 7 months I had the same conversation every single Sunday:

"Hi, I'm ...... And you are?"
"Lindsay."
"Nice to meet you. Are you new to St Helen's?"
"No, I've been coming here for ..... months."
"Great! What RML are you in?" (RML is the weekly small group.)
"Oh I can't go to an RML. I live too far away."
"Where do you live?"
"Margate."
"Margate?!?! In Kent?"
"Yep."
"How long does it take you to get here?"
"2 hours."
"Oh my goodness. Oh, hang on, the service is starting / I have to go. Nice to meet you."

That's how every single conversation went. Apart from a girl who took my phone number, texted me the following week and the weeks afterwards, and met me at the entrance to church nearly every week.

Oh, and the people I met a few weeks before my birthday, who threw me a 30th birthday party. Yep, I spent my 30th birthday with a bunch of strangers. It was great!

I digress. Anyway, the girl I had become friends with had suggested we go on the church ski trip. It was a great deal; and included a return coach trip all the way from London to Switzerland. It sounded like fun. On a whim, I agreed.

But then I changed my mind a few weeks before the trip...
It was all too much; going away with 65 strangers and returning the day before moving to London and starting a new job. I had even rung the company to cancel my booking:

"Hi. My name's Lindsay. I'm booked on the St Helen's ski trip and I want to..."
"Oh Lindsay. I've been meaning to call you. You'll have to take a double room which is a little more expensive. Is that ok?"
"Oh. Um. Yes. It's just that, well, I don't know anyone, and I have a lot on that week, so I think..."
"Oh! You're new? That won't do at all. Here, let me book you into a room of four. That way you'll be with more people. Anyway, you're going to have a wonderful time. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

I lost my nerve to cancel on this nice lady. So I was going.

And that's how I ended up at the coach station in Dover. Everyone else had boarded the coach in London, but being from East Kent, they suggested I meet them later on. And true to her word, my friend jumped off the coach to come and find me. Feeling sick to the stomach, I hopped on.

Who knew that by boarding that coach, I'd meet 65 friendly new people, spend an amazing week on the Swiss slopes with them, and thus would establish some great friendships and a life in London.

So while I sit here with eyes streaming and tissues up my nose, I thank God for the friend who suggested the trip (thanks Gemma!), the nice lady who interrupted me from cancelling, and the wonderful friends I've made a year ago.

Some random snow shots: