Oscar winners, fathers and a train to Eastbourne

Congratulations Colin Firth! Finally an Oscar winner.

[I wrote this post on Sunday and typed that line in complete faith but with a slight fear that it would jinx him.]
I’ve just spend the weekend away with church people in Eastbourne – aka retired people central – and my primary purpose of being there was to help lead the student group. This role meant that on Friday evening, me and another leader had the job of ensuring that four students safely made it from London to the coast. He sorted out the things like where we’d meet (helpfully deciding on ‘under a departure board’, when there are two at Victoria…) and what time train we’d get, but once on the move, he stuck his headphones in and I was left to the endless banter of excited youth. (One of whom was super hyper thanks to having consumed three coffees. Hmph.) 
To be honest, I’d be just the same with a group of my friends, but in the midst of a dreary Friday evening commuter train, it was quite hilarious. I’m pretty sure that the man wearing a purple crotched tie heard someone’s stage whispers of “Look! That man’s wearing a crotched purple tie!”, but luckily he didn’t show any sign of it. What did attract the attention of our fellow passengers was a conversation on the topic of the newly crowned Best Actor… 
I was telling how a guy had asked me earlier in the week if I found Colin Firth hot – I’d replied saying that I didn’t think he was the hottest actor in The King’s Speech (Guy Pearce, playing the abdicating monarch, would have to take that credit), nor did I generally find him that attractive, but I did love him in Bridget Jones. [Also, and this may shock readers, but I’ve never got the Pride & Prejudice thing, probably because I’ve never actually watched the series. I know, I know. Yell at me when you see me.] In my defence, I have what has been referred to as ‘unconventional’ taste in men…
The student girls disagreed vigorously with my views, and one went on to say “I used to really like Colin Firth, but then he started to remind me of my Dad, so that was weird.”  At which point the total stranger sat next to me piped up with “Can I meet your Dad? Sorry to interrupt, but I love Colin Firth and I couldn’t help hearing what you were talking about!” [For those interested, the father in question isn’t single and apparently doesn’t actually look much like Firth, it’s more of a subtle similarity.] We went on to bond with this lady to the extent that she was even included in our Percy Pig sharing circle.

To all other passengers in carriage 11 on the 18.06 train from Victoria on Friday night, I apologise profusely for the noise, raucous laughter and general inappropriateness that disturbed your journey home. 

As an aside, Eastbourne was lovely when the sun shone – less lovely when being battered by torrential rain. Plus, the beach was closed for maintenance (they needed to re-arrange the pebbles) – what’s that about?