It *really * is a small world

Many years ago we sold the house we then lived in in Berkshire to a couple, whose parents, we then discovered not only lived in the same street in a village near Dover as my aunt and uncle but both women attended the same church and were firm friends.

Outside a supermarket in Nairobi, I met, quite by chance, a woman who had been a year below me at school in Scotland, about eight years previously.

You don't have to be on holiday. Mr absent and I lived in the same London street in the 1970s, shopped in the same parade of local shops and drank (occasionally) in the same pub. We never met. Twenty years later we did meet and eventually got married. (It took him a while to persuade me.)

My nephew and neice originally from Bristol, bumped into each other quite by chance at Oxford Circus tube station.

We always used to meet people my DH knew when we were away on holiday. Once we struggled with buggies, beach bags , two toddlers & buckets & spades etc over some rocks to get to a quiet & secluded sandy bay. As we started to find our spot the guy from the one other couple on the beach called out to DH. The guy was a professional football scout and knew DH who ran his school's football team!

Nina my weirdest encounter was about 10 years ago, on holiday in Ithaca. We were staying in a very small village(out of hundreds on the island) and were eating in a small restaurant (out of several in the village).
I couldn't take my eyes off a woman sitting opposite us but it took me about half an hour to eventually remember that her name was Maureen and that I'd known her through work at least 10 years previously.
I went over and said hello and she said she had been spending the last half hour trying to remember who I was.
The odd thing was that Maureen was her real name, but no-one ever called her that and she was always known as Nonnie. That only came back to me hours later!