Surprise Encounter in Marrakesh

In the 1960s I lived in a cottage in Somerset. A frequent visitor and good friend was a Canadian by the name of Lester. At the end of the summer, he announced his intention of heading for India on his 1940s Norton motorbike, and duly set off soon afterwards. A few months later my partner and I decided to take a trip to Morocco, and drove down through Europe in our VW camper van. We headed for Marrakesh, found ourselves a campsite, and parked in an empty space. On the space next to us was a small tent and a washing line, and hanging on the washing line was a red vest. "I'm sure that's Lester's vest", I said to my partner, but we decided it couldn't possibly be. However of course it was -- his Norton had broken down in France and he had replaced it with a mobilette (small motorised bicycle) and had abandoned the India trip for the much closer Morocco. We had had no idea of this, and he had no idea of our plans to visit the country. It was, of course, a very pleasant surprise and a complete coincidence.