Holiday Coincidences

Coincidences We have had three increasingly amazing holiday coincidences. 1.On holiday in a hotel on the east coast of Yorkshire, in which county we live, we joined a couple at a table round the dance floor. We spent a pleasant evening together but other than learning that they came from the south coast we did not exchange personal details. However, after we had gone up to bed I remarked upon the uncanny likeness of the man to my father who had died only 18 months before. On a chance meeting the next morning I was told, by the lady from the previous evening, that she was looking for her tennis racquet in the car boot but that her husband was a doctor who insisted on having his boot full of medical equipment which made life difficult. Bingo! The likeness to my father the fact that he was a doctor and he came from the south coast prompted me to ask their name. It turned out that he was my father’s 1st cousin whom I had heard of but never met! 2. Holidaying in Egypt we went down to the Nile at Luxor to see if we could go for a sail on a felucca, one was just setting off with a group of 4 tourists who invited us to join them. In conversation on of the 4 said he originally came from Harrogate. I asked his name and when he said Glasby I replied that only knew one family of that name whom I visited delivering Books on Wheels. He immediately replied “You’re the Library Lady you came to my parents house when I was visiting them last Christmas” So we had in fact briefly met prior to this encounter in the middle of the Nile. 3. Now to the chance in a million encounter. We were on holiday in a small complex of 20 or so villas in the south of Spain and a party of 6 from New Zealand occupied one of the villas. One of this party came to our door to ask if we could help with advice about a trip to Granada. After he left I suggested that my husband should ask this New Zealander if he had come across any one called Bankart (our unusual name) as in the late 1800’s one member of the family had emigrated there. My husband thought it too long a shot, but on the last day of their holiday the only man of the 6 New Zealanders to whom we had spoken came across to say goodbye so I asked him the question about the name Bankart whereupon he gave a double take and announced that his mother had been a Bankart! When we got home we found his name, Lintott, on our family tree. We duly sent him a copy.