Yesterday I mentioned my wet day in Brighton.
Our friends from Exeter moved there last year, and have settled in brilliantly, it is a town that is very 'them', and although I am not sure I would live there it is a lovely place.
It was a great day catching up, Dave (a mutual friend from Exeter, and the other half of Words Fail Me podcast) visited as well, and we all chatted a lot about what we had been up to the last few months.
But it made me think about how friendship has changed. When in Exeter we used to hang around together for hours and just played silly games (Pass the Pigs, Poker, Uno) or just sat talking about random things for hours.
But when you have not seen each other for months, and have the time pressure of just a few hours before the train home then every bit of conversation seems to carry more weight, and it seems more important to find out what has been happening, and less time to explore the strange and random interiors of each others minds and thoughts. The conversation seems more important, but somehow you get less out of it.
I don't know what the solution is, other than spending more prolonged time together (and hopefully this will happen in the summer), but it seems sad to have largely lost this art of conversation in my life.