Wednesday, 5 November 2025

In a Solitude of the Sea: Exploring My Fascination With Disaster Documentaries

      In a solitude of the Sea
      Deep from human vanity,
And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.

— Thomas Hardy, “The Convergence of the Twain (Lines on the loss of the ‘Titanic’)”

Content warning: discussion of tragedy including loss of life

“The Convergence of the Twain (Lines on the loss of the ‘Titanic’)” by Thomas Hardy (1840–1928) has been one of my favourite poems since I discovered it at the age of sixteen as part of my GCE O-level English Literature syllabus. I failed the subject with an overall grade of U (Unclassified) but Hardy’s poetry made a great impression on me. I can still recite most of Convergence from memory. Hardy spoke to my teenage predilection for fatalism and irony. There are echoes of this in my own poetry written at that time, such as these lines from “I heard today that (she) may be leaving.”

Weave out, dark Destiny, thy web before my eyes;
For what now seems too sad may be the best surprise.

Fifty years on, I’m still fascinated by the loss of the RMS Titanic in particular and disasters in general. I thought it would be interesting to explore why that is. I’m grateful to my friend Jen for her suggestions regarding my approach. “I think it would be interesting,” she said, “if you tied it into your psyche somehow. Why are you drawn to disasters? How does your interest in them play into your emotional self and your mental health?” Let’s start with the kind of disasters I’m most interested in. I’m fascinated by natural catastrophes; accidents where apparently random events lead to devastating outcomes; the results of people intentionally putting themselves in harm’s way; and disasters resulting from criminal acts, incompetence, and neglect. In all cases, I’m interested in what led to them occurring, and what can be done to mitigate the risk of them happening again.

Jump to:

If you’re not interested in the disasters themselves you can skip to why I like them so much.

Natural Disasters

Natural disasters include volcanic eruptions, tsunami, earthquakes, and extreme weather events. Three I return to again and again are the 1883 eruption of Krakatoa, the eruption of Mount St. Helens in 1980, and the Boxing Day tsunami of 2004.

Krakatoa (1883)

The volcanic island of Krakatoa sat in the Sunda Straight between Java and Sumatra. Its eruption in August 1883 killed more than 36,000 people and caused the average temperature around the world to drop by more than half a degree. The sound of the explosion was heard over a twelfth of the earth’s surface. The massive death toll was caused by huge tsunami generated by the eruption itself. Arguably the best account of the disaster, and one of my favourite disaster documentaries of any kind, is the docudrama Krakatoa: The Great Volcanic Eruption shared on the Naked Science YouTube channel. The 1968 movie Krakatoa East of Java is also worth watching.

Mount St. Helens (1980)

The 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens in Washington state has been called the most disastrous volcanic eruption in US history. Fifty-seven people were killed in the eruption. Two excellent documentaries on the tragedy are Minute by Minute: The Eruption of Mount St. Helens and St. Helens: Out of the Ash. The 1981 movie Mount St. Helens focuses on World War I veteran Harry R. Truman who refused to leave his home despite repeated orders to evacuate. He died in the immediate aftermath of the eruption when a pyroclastic flow overwhelmed his cabin.

Boxing Day Tsunami (2004)

On Boxing Day (December 26) 2004, an earthquake off the west coast of Aceh in northern Sumatra, Indonesia led to a massive tsunami with waves up to one hundred feet high. The tsunami devastated coastal communities in the Indian Ocean. The true death toll is unknown but an estimated 228,000 people in fourteen countries are believed to have perished. Two of the best documentaries I’ve found on the disaster are Magnitude 9.3: at the heart of the Tsunami and Revisiting The Boxing Day Tsunami | Tsunami: The Wave That Shook The World. Part 1 of Thailand Tsunami 2004 focuses on the impact of the tsunami on the islands of Phuket, Khao-Lak, and Surin. The 2012 movie The Impossible is based on the experience of María Belón and her family who were holidaying in Thailand when the tsunami struck.

Disasters of Adventure and Exploration

The events in this category happened to people who deliberately put themselves in situations where success, and even survival, are far from guaranteed. Four such disasters hold particular appeal for me. These are Robert Falcon Scott’s ill-fated Terra Nova expedition (1910–1913) to reach the South Pole, the Everest disaster of 1996 which cost the lives of eight climbers, and the Challenger (1986) and Columbia (2003) Space Shuttle disasters. Two key figures in these events — Robert Falcon Scott himself and Everest survivor Anatoli Boukreev — featured in an article I wrote for International Men’s Day 2024, focusing on six qualities and twelve men I admire.

Scott’s Terra Nova Expedition (1910–1913)

I’ve been interested in polar exploration since childhood when I was gifted a small book about the exploits of Robert Peary, Robert Falcon Scott, Roald Amunsen, and Ernest Shackleton. The story of Scott’s Terra Nova expedition and the fate of the final party of five, including Scott himself, who died within a dozen miles of food and supplies, has long haunted me. Of the many accounts of the expedition, two of the best are Terra Nova: The Doomed Antarctic Mission Of Captain Scott and the 2023 documentary The White Silence: Captain Scott’s Journey to the South Pole. Also worth watching is the 1948 film Scott of the Antarctic starring John Mills in the lead role.

Everest Disaster (1996)

The 2015 movie Everest tells the story of the 1996 Everest disaster in which eight climbers lost their lives after being caught in a blizzard while descending from the summit. As compelling as the movie is, details of the tragedy are contested, with accounts of surviving climbers varying to greater or lesser extents. Two excellent documentaries are Storm Over Everest (PBS) and Seconds from Disaster: Into the Death Zone.

Challenger Space Shuttle Disaster (1986)

On January 28, 1986, Space Shuttle Challenger exploded seventy-three seconds into its flight. All seven crew members of the crew perished, including schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe. Amongst the many excellent accounts of the disaster and its causes, check out Space Shuttle: The Challenger Disaster, Challenger: A Rush To Launch, and the movie The Challenger Disaster.

Columbia Space Shuttle Disaster (2003)

The Space Shuttle Columbia exploded on re-entry into the earth’s atmosphere, with the loss of all seven astronauts. One of the best documentaries of the disaster is this one by François Tribolet, produced by French press agency and production company CAPA.

Aviation Disasters

Aircraft collisions such as those at Tenerife’s Los Rodeos airport in 1977 and the Überlingen (2002) and Zagreb (1976) midair collisions hold a particular fascination for me. I think this is because they’re almost almost the result of human error, albeit compounded by external factors. Three other aviation disasters of note are the Mount Erebus disaster of 1979, the Varig Flight 254 disaster in Brazil (1989), and the loss of Helios Airways Flight 522 in 2005. The disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370 in 2014 is arguably the greatest mystery in aviation history.

Tenerife Los Rodeos Disaster (1977)

The collision of two Boeing 747 aircraft on the runway at Tenerife’s Los Rodeos airport in March 1977 led to the death of 583 passengers and crew. Only sixty-one survived, all from the front section of the Pan Am aircraft. Everyone in the KLM aircraft perished. The tragedy was the result of many factors including a terrorist bomb detonation at Gran Canaria airport, congestion at Los Rodeos airport, and heavy fog which severely limited visibility. Blame is difficult to assign, although the decision of the KLM captain to take off without clearance from air traffic control was the most immediate cause of the disaster. Two of the best accounts are Mentour Pilot’s What REALLY Caused the Tenerife Airport Disaster? and Tenerife Airport Disaster by the Mayday: Air Disaster channel.

Überlingen Midair Collision (2002)

The midair collision of Bashkirian Airlines Flight 2937 and DHL Flight 611 over Überlingen near the border between Germany and Switzerland led to the loss of seventy-one people including fifty-two children. Many of the children were Russian schoolchildren on a school trip. The tragedy did not end with the loss of the aircraft. Two years later Vitaly Kaloyev, who had lost his wife and two children in the disaster, tracked down and stabbed to death Peter Nielsen, the air traffic controller at the time of the collision. Kaloyev was sentenced to eight years for manslaughter. His sentence was later reduced after a Swiss judge ruled that he had acted with diminished responsibility. Three excellent accounts of the disaster are The Überlingen Disaster, Zurich Midair Collision, and Two Planes, One Disaster.

Zagreb Midair Collision (1976)

In 1976 British Airways Flight 476 en route from London to Istanbul collided with Inex-Adria Aviopromet Flight 550 traveling from Split in Yugoslavia to Cologne, West Germany. The collision occurred near Zagreb in modern-day Croatia. The collision was the result of errors by air traffic controllers in Zagreb. One of the best accounts of the disaster is the movie Collision Course.

Mount Erebus Disaster (1979)

On 28 November 1979, an Air New Zealand jet carrying 257 passengers on a sightseeing trip crashed into Mount Erebus in Antarctica. The likely causes of the disaster were strongly contested at the time. One of the most detailed accounts is the movie Erebus the Aftermath (part one | part two) starring the late Frank Findlay Justice Peter Mahonwhich who presided over the 1980 Royal Commission of Enquiry. The chilling documentary Mount Erebus Disaster tells the story of the police officers whose job it became to recover the bodies from the crash site in one of the most inhospitable places on the planet.

Varig Flight 254 Disaster (1989)

Varig Flight 254 was a domestic passenger flight from São Paulo in Brazil to the northern town of Belém. The accident occurred on the final leg from Marabá to Belém. It was caused by the crew incorrectly setting the flight computer to a heading of 270 (due west) instead of 027 (approximately north-east). The Boeing 737 ran out of fuel and was forced to crash land in the rainforest. Twelve of the fifty-four people on board died, with many more sustaining serious injuries. A good account of the tragedy is the documentary How Did A Decimal Point Doom Varig Flight 254?

Helios Flight 522 Disaster (2005)

One of the most tragic aviation disasters was the loss of Helios Airways Flight 522 on a scheduled flight from Larnaca in Cyprus to Prague in the Czech Republic, with a stopover in Athens, Greece. Air traffic control lost contact with the pilots shortly after takeoff. The Boeing 737-300 eventually ran out of fuel and crashed near Grammatiko in Greece. All 121 passengers and crew on board were killed. A good account of the tragedy is The Ghost Plane on the Mayday Air Disaster channel.

MH370 Disaster (2014)

Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 (MH370) disappeared from radar in March 2014 while en route from Kuala Lumpur International Airport in Malaysia to its planned destination in Beijing, China. The circumstances leading to the aircraft’s disappearance and the loss of all 227 passengers and twelve crew on board remain a mystery to this day. Countless theories have been proposed, many of which are outlined in the 60 Minutes Australia documentary MH370: The Situation Room and Vanished Without a Trace: What Really Happened to Flight MH370?

Maritime and Oil Exploration Disasters

Of the many maritime disasters and incidents involving the oil exploration industry, I’ll limit myself to losses of the RMS Titanic in April 1912; the Edmund Fitzgerald (1975); the Russian submarine Kursk (2000); and the oil rigs Alexander Kielland (1980), Ocean Ranger (1982), Piper Alpha (1988), and Deepwater Horizon (2010).

The Loss of RMS Titanic (1912)

The loss of RMS Titanic in 1912 scarcely needs an introduction. The tragic loss of more than 1600 passengers and crew has been immortalised in movies such as A Night to Remember starring Kenneth More, S.O.S. Titanic, and the 1997 epic Titanic directed by James Cameron and starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. Of the many factual accounts I recommend Building the Titanic: The Story of the “Unsinkable Ship” and the Channel 4 documentary Titanic: Into the Heart of the Wreck.

The Loss of the Edmund Fitzgerald (1975)

I first learned of this disaster in the ballad The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald by Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot. The tragic loss of the Great Lakes freighter Edmund Fitzgerald and her crew of twenty-nine remains a mystery. One good account of the disaster is Rogue Wave or Human Error: What Sunk the Infamous SS Edmund Fitzgerald?

The Loss of the Submarine Kursk (2000)

I’ve been fascinated by the story of the Russian submarine Kursk since I encountered it in a TV documentary many years ago. I recorded it to VHS video tape and watched it almost every evening for months. All 118 on board died when the vessel sank in the Barents Sea following an on board explosion. There’s a superb five-part documentary on the Defragged History YouTube channel which details the lead up to the disaster and the subsequent rescue and recovery attempts. Also worth watching is the History Channel documentary covering the disaster.

Oil Platform Disasters

I’ve only recently begun exploring disasters associated with the oil industry, but I find them fascinating. Waterline Stories’ excellent documentary How Fast Things Can Go Wrong on an Oil Rig describes four oil rig disasters: Alexander Kielland (1980), Ocean Ranger (1982), Piper Alpha (1988), and Deepwater Horizon (2010).

Terrorist Attacks and Disasters of Negligence

I’ve grouped the following tragedies on the basis they were caused by deliberate human action or acts of negligent disregard for safety: the 2001 terrorist attacks of 9/11, the 2011 Norway Attacks (22 July), the 1966 tragedy at Aberfan in Wales, and the loss of the submersible Titan in 2023.

9/11 Terrorist Attacks (2001)

The loss of almost three thousand lives on September 11, 2001 needs little introduction. Of the many accounts covering the terrorist attacks and their impact on the lives of so many around the world, I recommend the following. I have zero patience for conspiracy theories.

Co-produced by Channel 4 in the UK and CBC in Canada, The Hamburg Cell is a 2004 docudrama on the planning and execution of the terrorist attacks.

2011 Norway Attacks (22 July)

The 2011 Norway Attacks (22 July) were two domestic terrorist attacks by Anders Behring Breivik. The first attack was a car bomb explosion in the Norwegian capital Oslo which killed eight and injured more than two hundred. The second occurred two hours later on the island of Utøya, where Breivik killed sixty-nine participants of a Workers’ Youth League (AUF) summer camp and injured thirty-two. Factual accounts include the Real Crime documentary 2011 Norway Massacre. The Netflix movie 22 July is also worth watching.

Aberfan Disaster (1966)

Twenty-eight adults and 116 children were killed when colliery spoil tip 7 collapsed onto the Welsh village of Aberfan. The blame was placed firmly on the National Coal Board and nine named employees. The Tribunal of Inquiry into the disaster reported “... our strong and unanimous view is that the Aberfan disaster could and should have been prevented. ... the Report which follows tells not of wickedness but of ignorance, ineptitude and a failure in communications.” Accounts of the disaster include the powerful BBC documentary Surviving Aberfan and Aberfan: The mistake that cost a village its children.

The Loss of Titan (2023)

For overweening pride, stubbornness, and refusal to accept advice or criticism, it’s hard to beat Stockton Rush, co-founder and chief executive officer of the deep-sea exploration company OceanGate. His hubris and obstinance undoubtedly led to the loss in June 2023 of the submersible Titan on a trip to visit the site of the Titanic, 3,800 metres below the surface of the Atlantic. Rush and four paying customers perished when the uncertified carbon fibre vessel imploded. Described as mission specialists rather than passengers to avoid legal and regulatory responsibilities, the four who died with Rush were British explorer Hamish Harding, French diver Paul-Henri Nargeolet, and British-Pakistani businessman Shahzada Dawood and his nineteen year old son Suleman. For background check out the 60 Minutes Australia interview with James Cameron.

The Appeal and Horror of the Macabre

Having shared many of the disasters that fascinate me, it’s time to return to my friend Jen’s challenge.

I think it would be interesting if you tied it into your psyche somehow. Why are you drawn to disasters? How does your interest in them play into your emotional self and your mental health?

The first thing to say is that this isn’t a new thing for me. I’ve been fascinated by stories of polar exploration since childhood, especially Scott’s tragic demise on the Antarctic ice. The fate of Franklin’s 1845 expedition to find a Northwest passage through the Canadian Arctic has haunted me since I first came across photographs of the exhumed body of stoker John Torrington. A TV documentary on the loss of the Russian submarine Kursk became almost daily viewing for months. A few years ago I discovered the wealth of quality documentaries on YouTube and other streaming services. From there, my interest expanded from polar and maritime disasters to the many different categories I’ve mentioned.

I routinely have some documentary or other playing on my headset of an evening, during the day while I’m working from home, or when I’m out and about. I find the narrative tone relaxing, like the background sounds of my favourite coffee shop that are so conducive to my writing. I’ve watched most of the videos I’ve mentioned here many times. Some are like old friends, such as the docudrama Krakatoa or the movie about the eruption of Mount St Helens. Their very familiarity is comforting and provides a useful distraction if I’m feeling stressed or anxious about things happening elsewhere in my life.

So much for the tone of the documentaries, but what of their content? There are a few categories of disaster I can’t watch because they’re too distressing or triggering for me. These include incidents involving entrapment, especially where fire is involved. The 2017 Grenfell Tower fire in London left seventy-two dead and more than seventy injured, but I’m unable to watch or even read about what happened. Disasters involving train fires in tunnels such as the 1999 Mont Blanc tunnel fire and the Kaprun Funicular disaster of 2000 are off limits. Equally impossible are accounts of potholing and caving incidents, in particular where people have died trapped in narrow spaces. Even the video thumbnails of such tragedies are enough to have me scroll quickly past.

There’s no obvious explanation for this. I’m not particularly claustrophobic. I’d never want to go potholing but I have been underground on a couple of occasions. I recall a trip to visit the Blue John Cavern in Derbyshire when I was in my teens, and the caves at How Stean Gorge in the Yorkshire Dales. Neither experience left me with unpleasant memories and I’d do them again if the opportunity arose. I think it’s more the idea of extreme constriction of movement and entrapment that I find so difficult to think about, rather than being underground as such.

Empathy and Understanding

I’ve never been in a disaster situation, but other people’s accounts help me appreciate what it must be like. A friend of mine was on holiday with his family on Phuket, the largest island in Thailand at the time of the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami. It was the final day of their vacation and they’d intended spending the morning on the beach before checking out of their hotel and heading to the airport. They changed their plans at the last minute, deciding there wasn’t enough time before their flight. They were still on the island when the tsunami struck and witnessed much of the devastation first-hand, but that decision likely saved their lives.

I have other friends with experience of earthquakes and extreme weather events. Fran and I included two examples in our book High Tide, Low Tide: The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder. The first explores my sense of helplessness in a situation where Fran’s safety appeared to be at risk.

In October 2012, Hurricane Sandy bore down on the East Coast of America. Fran lived alone and was naturally anxious as the region prepared for the hurricane’s arrival. It caused no significant damage where Fran lived, but for several days afterwards, she was unable to contact family in the more affected inland areas. I helped her track down information and emergency numbers but as I wrote in my diary, “I feel so very far from Fran right now.”

On other occasions, my sense of helplessness has been compounded by technical difficulties.

I’d been looking forward to meeting Fran on webcam tonight but the call kept dropping. We switched to voice but even that wouldn’t work. [...] Then she said there’d just been an earthquake! I couldn’t believe it! I chatted with her until well after one o’clock in the morning. I felt helpless and didn’t know what to do or say that could possibly help. Fran was shaken and worried about people who might be affected. Then she dismissed me so I could go to bed. She didn’t have the energy to handle my distress as well as hers.

Jen shared with me her experience of such events. Her words echo the helplessness I’d felt at a distance. How much more scary it must feel to be in the middle of things.

Near the end of my time In Seattle, I experienced an earthquake. Very scary. I’d take a tornado or lightning before that experience. Having the ground move beneath your feet gives a whole new meaning to “grounding.” One of the things you might touch on in your blog post is the complete loss of control in a situation like that. You come face to face with your mortality in a few short seconds or minutes. It’s very crazy. Anything can happen at any moment. There are no guarantees.

I’ve never watched a tornado but I’ve experienced tornado warnings. Helplessness is a scary feeling [as is] freezing to death. These [risks] are real where I live. It sucks, to be honest, but it serves two purposes. You realize how precarious life is and how Mother Nature can upset your basic existence. But there’s a beauty to it. The frost the snow can be very beautiful.

Nothing can prepare me for what it must be like to live through a disaster situation but such accounts provide human context to the factual accounts of disaster situations. No matter what happened, no single witness or account can provide the full story. That’s one reason I watch coverage of the same event by different presenters or channels. Each offers a unique perspective on what took place. This is especially valuable where details are contested or uncertain, as they are with the loss of the American fishing vessel Andrea Gail in the “perfect storm” of 1991, and the disappearance of Malaysian Flight MH370. The truth is even harder to get at where engaged parties have reasons to hide or misrepresent the facts, as in the Mount Erebus disaster or the tragedy of Aberfan.

Responsibility and Response

I’m not a big fan of true crime documentaries but in the case of disasters caused by criminal or terrorist acts I’m interested in the motives and psychology of the people responsible. It’s all too easy to segregate those who perform such acts from those who have not, as though there’s a fundamental difference between “them and us.” In my opinion, that’s an unhelpful and dangerous view. Horrific acts are often performed by “ordinary people.” Retrospectively demonising those responsible does little to address that reality.

Disaster documentaries also shed light on the those who help people caught up in dreadful circumstances, whether due to natural events, accident, or deliberate human agency. As famously expressed by children’s television host Fred Rogers, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” These include the professional helpers — emergency responders, police, fire crews, ambulance crews, paramedics, and medical and nursing staff — but also “ordinary people” who do all they can to assist those most affected.

I began this piece referencing the loss of the Titanic through the lens of Thomas Hardy’s poem “The Convergence of the Twain (Lines on the loss of the ‘Titanic’.” I’m especially drawn to events which appear designed to thwart what Hardy called mankind’s “Pride of Life.” I say appear to because I no longer believe in predestination or — quoting Hardy again — an “Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything.” It’s my belief that the cosmos is unaware of, and uninvolved in, our affairs. It nevertheless flatters human vanity to imagine we’re so important that the universe engineers disasters to keep us in our place. This is seen most clearly in disasters which occur due to the alignment of unlikely and apparently unrelated events, errors, or mistakes. The loss of the Titanic is archetypal but it’s no less true of the disaster at Los Rodeos airport in 1977, the Überlingen midair collision in 2002, and the Challenger disaster of 1986.

In each case, there’s a tendency to shake our heads at the implausibility of the disaster, as though it must have been fated to happen. How else could so many separate and relatively minor things conspire to bring about so tragic an outcome? The dangers with this kind of thinking are twofold. Attributing disasters of any kind to an external agency (whether god, fate, the universe, or Hardy’s Immanent Will) excuses us of responsibility for the very human omissions and mistakes that often lie behind such events. It also distracts us from the brutal but obvious fact that awful things sometimes happen. Not because the universe has it out for us. Not to punish us for our temerity as a species. Just because. As an atheist admirer of the Absurdist philosophy of Albert Camus, this is arguably my key takeaway from these disasters.

Here are a few of my favourite disaster-related channels on YouTube.

Aviation

Maritime

Mountaineering

Other

If you know of any other good disaster-related channels, I’d love to hear of them.

Over to You

When I first thought of exploring my interest in disaster documentaries, I had no idea it would end up as one of the longest blog posts I’ve written. I needn’t have included so many examples, but each event or accident I’ve mentioned holds something unique for me. If I’ve interested you in such content I’d love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Photo by Library of Congress at Unsplash.

Taken in 1912 this remarkable photograph shows the “Titanic orphans” Michel (left) and Edmond Navratil. The photograph was taken before they were formally identified. They were the only children rescued from the sinking of RMS Titanic without a parent or guardian, their father having died in the disaster. Michel went on to become a philosophy professor. He died in January 2001 at the age of ninety-two, succeeding his brother Edmond who died in 1953.

 

Wednesday, 29 October 2025

Forward or Back? Thoughts on a Steam Train Ride from Heatherslaw to Etal

The little blue steam engine Bunty takes around twenty-five minutes on the two mile journey between Heatherslaw and Etal. The fifteen inch narrow gauge track of the Heatherslaw Light Railway follows the course of the River Till around Letham Haugh, a low-lying meadow near Etal village. On such a short journey, with plenty to see on either side, it wouldn’t seem too big a deal on which side of the tiny carriages you choose to sit, or in which direction you’re facing.

It was a big deal, however, for the father of two young children at Heatherslaw station one morning in July. I lost count of how many times he shuffled them between the carriage they’d chosen and the one in which his parents, the children’s grandparents, were sitting patiently. He had very specific, if not entirely logical, opinions on what constituted appropriate seating arrangements for a family excursion on a narrow gauge steam railway. He remained calm, but his need to control what was happening and direct where his children sat was as disturbing to witness as it was embarrassing.

I was reminded of the scene in the movie Jurassic Park in which the children Tim and Lex Murphy are deciding in which vehicles they’ll explore the park. Played by Sam Neill, palaeontologist Dr. Alan Grant is doing his best to avoid sharing a vehicle with Tim, whose enthusiasm for dinosaurs and need to share everything he knows about them is relentless. (I wouldn’t want to ride with Tim either!) After switching vehicles, only to have the boy follow him, Grant asks, “Which car were you planning [on riding in]?” “Whichever one you are,” Tim replies. His sister joins them. “She said I should ride with you,” Lex declares, speaking of Laura Dern’s character, palaeobotanist Dr. Ellie Sattler. “Because it would be good for you.” We’re meant to side with Sattler, but I feel sympathy for Grant. His wishes are being overridden by someone who believes they know better.

I wondered what the children on the train thought about it all. Were they used to their father’s need to control what they did? Did they actually care if they sat facing the direction of travel or not? Would they grow up to resent him?

The guard blew his whistle and the train started with a jolt. I jotted a few notes in my phone.

Do you face forward or do you face back?
Train Heatherslaw to Etal
Dad trying to organise his family’s seating
Need to control things and people vs letting them choose for themselves

I put my phone away and settled into the journey. The train rattled its way along the wide loop of track. Open fields on one side, the narrow water of the Till on the other. I’ve seen heron along there in the past. Cattle in the fields. Deer watching from beneath the trees, or running along the track ahead of the train. It’s a pretty journey with plenty to see if you’re paying attention, no matter which seat you chose or in which direction you’re facing.

In the weeks that followed, I kept returning to the notes I’d made on my phone. Do you face forward or do you face back? There was something there I wanted to explore, I just wasn’t sure what it was. It happens that way sometimes with my blogging. The shape of the piece doesn’t emerge until I get in there and begin writing. I opened a new document and gave it a working title. I chose a photo from the many I took that day, and wrote an opening paragraph or two. Where was this going, though? I was still in the station. Literally, in terms of the narrative, but creatively too. What finally moved me on was a conversation with my friend Jen. I told her I’d started a new blog post inspired by what I’d witnessed at Heatherslaw that day.

“So your post is about preference?”

“I’m still working it out, but yes. Preference, and how it affects what we see and experience.” I paused to reflect on that. “You might prefer to sit facing forward,” I mused, “and I might choose to face the other way. Our experiences of the journey will be different but one isn’t more correct or valid than the other.”

“Like it doesn’t really matter where you sit?” Jen asked.

“Yeah. I think so. Maybe.” As we chatted I was watching a TV adaptation of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple mystery 4.50 from Paddington, in which the witnessing of a murder depends on where the character of Elspeth McGillicuddy chose to sit on the train. “— Except in this show I’m watching it matters,” I said. “Because if the woman hadn’t chosen that exact seat she wouldn’t have seen the murder and the killer would have gone free!”

Apparently trivial decisions have consequences. I’m fascinated by air crash investigation videos. (One day I’ll blog about my fondness for disaster documentaries.) There are many examples of a seating choice making the difference between a passenger surviving the event or not. The consequences aren’t usually so dramatic but we’re often required to choose where to position ourselves and in which direction to face, literally or otherwise. Only the Roman god Janus (for whom is named the month of January) and the Pushmi-Pullyu, the mythical, two-headed creature from Hugh Lofting’s Doctor Dolittle books, can look both ways at once. I asked Jen in which direction she prefers to travel.

“You know,” she replied, “it’s been a long time since I rode a train or a bus. I’d have to think back to [when I visited] England because I drive most of the time.”

“Best to face forward when driving!”

Later, Jen told me she’d thought about it and decided that if she was on a train and knew the route she’d be happy to face in either direction. She'd prefer to face forwards if the journey was new to her. That was something I’d not considered, and I’ll bear it in mind the next time I’m travelling somewhere new. In general, I don’t have a strong preference. On my commute to and from the office I choose seats which face in towards the centre of the carriage. In our new Metro trains all the seats face inwards. You can’t choose to face forward or back, even if you want to. It’s an interesting design decision, psychologically speaking, and one I know not all travellers endorse. Our conversation shifted to other preferences in seating and how they affect our experience of the world.

“I tend to be really picky about where I sit,” Jen told me. “For instance, when I go to the Millstone [restaurant], I have two or three places where I love to sit. No matter where I am, I prefer to be by a window. I like looking out at the area around me. It’s probably kind of odd.”

I didn’t think it was odd at all. “I totally get what you mean.” I told her. “I used to go to Caffè Nero in Newcastle every Saturday. I always sat at the back in the corner. I had a direct line of sight to the door and outside, and only had someone sitting next to me on one side. I like corner seats.” I’m rarely at Caffè Nero these days but in my local coffee shop I choose a table near the back of the room against the wall. It’s not quite in the corner but I have the same sense of what’s going on around me and outside.

“So you can people watch,” Jen asked.

“Yes! Though when I’m writing I’m scarcely aware of who else is in the place beyond a general awareness of whether it’s busy or not from the noise level. I’m in a little world of my own!” I thought of other times I choose where to sit. At work, I prefer a desk next to the aisle, facing into the main body of the office. I’ve only been on a plane once but if I ever do again I’d choose an aisle seat over one at the window. There’s more leg room, for one thing. (I’m six foot two, these things matter!)

I’m grateful to Jen for that conversation. As is often the case when we discuss my blogging ideas, she opened me up to thinking about things from a different perspective. That was especially relevant in this case. I’m reminded me of the Two Guys on a Bus meme based on a 2013 cartoon by Brazilian illustrator Genildo Ronchi. It features two men sitting on opposite sides of a bus with one looking out the window at a rock wall and the other looking at a beautiful view. It’s a somewhat clumsy metaphor. We can’t switch from depression to health and hopefulness as easily as we might change seats on a bus. It nevertheless conveys something useful about perspective and preference. Forward or back, left side or right side, we have some agency in how we see the world and our place in it.

Perhaps that’s what the father wanted his children to understand, though I’d contend it’s something we have to figure out for ourselves. In any case, I hope the family had a pleasant day. If you ever find yourself in Etal village, check out the Lavender Tearooms. Great coffee and the best Singing Hinnies! Tell them Marty sent you. (They won’t have a clue who you mean but hey!)

Over to You

Do you prefer to face the direction of travel on a train? Aisle or window seat on a plane? Do you have a favourite table at your local café or restaurant? More generally, are you someone who looks to the future or back over what’s happened in the past? I’ve kept a diary for over fifty years and used to spend a lot of time poring over past experiences. These days I tend to focus on the present and near future. Whatever your thoughts and perspective, we’d love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Photo of the Heatherslaw Light Railway by Martin Baker

 

Wednesday, 22 October 2025

Miserable Places: My Welsh Nightmare

I’m not sad anymore, I’m just tired of this place
The weight of the world would be okay
If it would pick a shoulder to lean on
So I could stand up straight

— The Wonder Years, “My Last Semester”

This post was inspired by an impromptu conversation in a pub. One rainy morning in July I found myself talking at the bar of the Wateredge Inn with a guy called John. You can read about our meeting in One Must Imagine Marty and John Happy: Two Strangers Discuss the Absurd in an Ambleside Pub.

I mentioned it was one of my happy places and that I’ve blogged about it previously. [...] John commented that as I’d written about happy places I could write about miserable places too.

It’s taken me this long to think of anywhere I’d refer to in those terms. I tend not to dwell on things that didn’t work out for me, still less on where I was at the time. I kept coming back to the topic, though. Where’s somewhere I’d never want to revisit? Where do I struggle to talk or even think about? There are places I have no reason to revisit, but that’s not what John meant. That’s just moving on. Where have you been that’s painful to remember?

Finally, one place came to me. I’ve suppressed the memories so well that I don’t remember precisely where it was. Somewhere in Wales. Don’t get me wrong. Wales is a great place. I still have the little booklet of words and photos I put together after a class trip to Conway Castle. Family holidays in Llandudno. A youth club week in Corris, Machynlleth when I was sixteen or seventeen. The decrepid farmhouse my friend’s parents rented, venue for numerous retreat weekends in the eighties and a key character in my unpublished short story “Away From Home.” Two of my favourite books are set in Wales. The Owl Service by Alan Garner, and Susan Cooper’s The Grey King, part of the Dark Is Rising sequence. Good memories of good places.

The place I’m thinking of — and trying not to think about too deeply — wasn’t a good place for me at all. It was, I think, 1987. I’d moved to Newcastle upon Tyne at the start of the year and was settling into my new life in the north of England after three years in London. New places. New people. Two of my closest friends lived in Burnage, on the outskirts of Manchester. Mike, Margaret (Maggie), and their young son David. None of us had much money so when the opportunity arose for a inexpensive week away together in Wales we jumped at the chance. They’d secured the accommodation and I’d arrange the transport. The price for a week’s car rental at one of the mainstream companies I’d used previously seemed prohibitive, but I found a rental company in Gateshead that offered what seemed like a bargain deal.

Our plans in place, I picked up the car and drove the three hours or so to Burnage to collect Mike, Maggie, and David. The car was pretty full with luggage and provisions but before long we set off for Wales in hope of a fun week away. We arrived at the cottage a few hours later. We unloaded the car, put the kettle on, and settled in for the evening. My room had bunk beds, I recall. I chose the lower bunk.

Next day, we drove to the nearest city. I don’t recall where it was or what we did, apart from our visit to a particularly dreadful café. The place was full but we secured a table and waited to be served. David was hungry and Maggie proceeded to feed him. It didn’t take long for a waitress to come over and tell her she couldn’t breastfeed at the table. There was a toilet if she wanted to do so in there. We left immediately and with all the drama such treatment deserved. I wrote to the café after the trip to complain but nothing came of it.

On our way back to the cottage, the car broke down. That was bad enough, but these things happen. The nightmare began when I phoned the car hire company. It turned out one of the reasons the rental had been so cheap was the utter lack of support or rescue provision. I was told to get the car to the nearest garage and arrange for it to be repaired. Other than that, we were on our own. Somehow, we made it back to the cottage using public transport.

And then we got sick. I can’t recall what it was exactly. A stomach bug of some kind. Things were going downhill fast. There we were, at the start of a week away from home. Three adults and one young child, poorly, without transport or much money, in the middle of Wales, with days at least before we’d have the car again. Phone calls were made. Maggie’s father drove down from Manchester to rescue them. I had to stay to pick up the rental car when it had been repaired.

The rest of that week is a blur. I was really poorly. High temperature. Throwing up. A fever, maybe. I spent most of the time in my bunk, feeling alone and very sorry for myself. On the Friday I made the difficult bus journey back to the town where we’d left the car. It took me ages to find the garage. My keynote memory of the entire episode is of walking up and down the main street trying to locate the garage, asking people who seemed determined to prolong my misery by misdirecting me. Eventually, I found the place. The car was parked outside but I was too late. The garage was closed for the weekend. The Bank Holiday weekend. There was nothing to do but to return to the cottage and spend the next three days curled up in my misery.

I was somewhat recovered by the Tuesday morning. I collected the car and drove it home. I tried to secure a discount from the rental company for the lack of breakdown or recovery support, but to no avail. Needless to say, it’s the last time I’ve ever used a cut-price rental company.

Note to self and to you, dear reader: always read the small print.

I’m aware that my week in Wales doesn’t rate particularly high on the trauma scale. My car broke down. I got sick. A holiday was ruined. As another friend might have put it, “No one died and no one caught fire.” It was, nevertheless, one of the most stressful and traumatic experiences of my life to that point. Aside from the stress itself, I felt I’d let my friends down on what was supposed to have been a much-needed and well-deserved holiday. I know they weren’t happy, but it’s a testament to our friendship that they never once held it against me.

Another “miserable place” comes to mind. Another holiday. Another rental car. A single-track country road in Cumbria where, facing an impatient tractor driver coming in the opposite direction, I reversed my car into a stone wall, denting the wheel arch and wrecking the tyre. I spent an hour or more fitting the spare space saver wheel, and the rest of the week driving at or below fifty miles an hour. As awful as that experience was, it pales in comparison to my week in Wales.

I’m grateful to John for suggesting I explore some of my “miserable places” but I doubt I’ll do so again. This was hard enough. Hard mentally, in that it happened a long time ago and I’m vague on the details. But hard emotionally too. I really have pushed these memories down deep. Everything will be recorded in my diary for that year, but I’ve chosen not to refer to it to fill in the gaps or recover more than my reluctant memory will recall. Some chapters are best left unread.

I haven’t heard from Mike and Maggie in a long time. We drifted apart over the years as friends sometimes do. If by any chance they’re reading this, I hope they were less traumatised than I was by that week we — almost — spent together.

Over to You

Do you have “miserable places” you never want to revisit and can scarcely think about? How do you handle the memories if they come up for you, as they do for me from time to time? If you can share about them, I’d love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Photo by Navid Abedi at Unsplash. The moment I saw Navid’s photograph I knew it was right for this piece. It captures perfectly the isolation, helplessness, and hopelessness I felt that day in Wales as I tried unsuccessfully to collect the rental car after it had been repaired.

 

Wednesday, 15 October 2025

"Yes! Exactly!" When You and Your Friend Are on the Same Page

The inspiration for this post was a recent chat conversation with my friend Jen. In the space of an hour, I twice said something to which she replied “Yeah. Exactly.” That simple validation meant a lot because it confirmed we were on the same page. Thinking about it afterwards, it struck me how important this kind of validation can be.

It’s particularly helpful when the experience or situation being shared isn’t common to both people involved. That’s often the case when I’m talking with someone I don’t know, or if we’re discussing their mental or physical health, suicidality or self-harm, trauma, rape, or abuse. I’ve written elsewhere how I approach such situations.

In this post I want to share a few ideas to keep you and the person you’re talking to on the same page, no matter what you’re discussing.

I’m Thinking That ...

It can be difficult to know what to say when you have no equivalent experiences to draw upon. It’s tempting to respond with “I understand” or “I get what you mean” — but do you, really? Comments such as these can come across as condescending, especially if your friend is aware of your lack of corresponding experience. It’s better to acknowledge that your understanding is, at best, partial. In such situations, I might begin an exploratory sentence with “I’m thinking that ...”

Imagine a friend tells you they’ve been sleeping poorly. Without further information, it might not be obvious how much this is affecting them. Chronic insomnia can be far more serious than is appreciated by those of us whose idea of a bad night’s sleep is taking longer than usual to drop off. It can affect almost every aspect of a person’s life, mentally and physically. Unless you’re certain your friend’s insomnia is temporary or has a simple explanation, don’t assume you understand what they’re dealing with.

Rather than leap in with potential fixes (sentences that begin “Have you tried ...” are never a good idea), attempted solidarity (“I’ve not been sleeping very well either.”), or trite commiserations (“I’m sorry to hear that. It must be awful.”) I might respond more tentatively, taking into account what I know about insomnia in general and my friend’s situation in particular.

“I’m thinking that makes everything you’re dealing with harder.”

A response like this lets my friend know I’m aware how devastating insomnia can be, without making assumptions about how serious it is for them. Rather than derail the conversation, I invite my friend to clarify my thinking, or go into more detail if they want to.

Did That Make Sense?

Another useful technique is to ask if what you’ve just said makes sense to your friend. You’re not telling them how things are. You’re sharing your perspective and inviting them to say if you’re on the right track. It’s equally useful when you’re talking about what’s going on for you and want to check your friend follows what you’re saying. You’re not necessarily asking if they agree with you, just if they understand what you said. If so, you can take things forward, confident you’re on the same page. If not, you have the opportunity to rephrase or reframe what you were saying. I tend to use it more in chat than in face-to-face conversation, especially if I’ve expressed something at length, or feel I might have strayed off track.

Yes! Exactly!

It feels great to have your thoughts and feelings validated, but it’s not an end point in itself. Think of those “Yes! Exactly!” or “That makes perfect sense to me!” moments as waypoints on your journey towards even greater understanding. No matter how many affirmations you receive, you can never fully understand what your friend is experiencing. As hard as it may be to hear, it’s not their responsibility to educate you. As I’ve written elsewhere with respect to mental health, “[w]hatever your friend’s situation, approach educating yourself about it as a privileged insight into something you may never fully understand.” The same applies to physical health and other significant life experiences, including trauma, abuse, self-harm, and suicidality. Take the time to inform yourself.

It would be remiss of me not to mention those delightful times when you and your friend come out with almost exactly the same thing at the same time. It’s a fabulous feeling and one that happens regularly with several of my friends. (Louise and Aimee, I’m thinking of you in particular!) At such times it’s hard to resist the sensation that we’re actually one mind in two bodies!

Errrrrm. No.

Remember that neither of you is psychic and it’s okay to not be perfectly attuned at all times. Checking in with each other is an opportunity to adjust your perspectives where necessary. Receiving an “Errrm, no, that’s not what I meant” or an “Actually no, I don’t understand what you just said” doesn’t imply a failure in communication. In fact, it’s a success, because you’ve learned something about yourselves and your mutual level of understanding.

Aimee and I have a running joke which began a couple of years ago. Neither of us can recall what we were discussing at the time, but we both remember me pausing to ask if Aimee understood what I was saying.

“Know what I mean?”

“— I thought I did!”

You maybe had to be there, but it still makes us laugh, and is a great reminder that not being on the same page can be fun too!

 

Photo by Benjamin Wedemeyer at Unsplash.

 

Wednesday, 8 October 2025

So What If You Don't Have a Workplace? WMHD Is for You Too

Organised by the World Federation for Mental Health, World Mental Health Day (WMHD) is celebrated each year on October 10. As it was last year, the theme for 2025 is “It is time to prioritize mental health in the workplace.” Last October I shared my experience of healthy and unhealthy work environments in Do More of What You’re Good At and Keep Good People Close: What I’ve Learned about Prioritising Mental Health in the Workplace. Elsewhere, I’ve written on the value of teamwork and workplace recognition, and described working with colleagues and senior leaders to achieve accreditation under the Time to Change Employer Pledge Scheme.

It’s hard to overstate the importance of a supportive workplace. But what if you’re not in a workplace right now? What if your days don’t fit neatly into a nine-to-five schedule, with face-to-face team meetings, water cooler moments, and lunch breaks in the staff canteen? Maybe you’re self-employed or work in a sector that involves a lot of travelling or working on your own. Maybe you work from home, are between jobs, retired, or long-term unemployed, medically or otherwise unable to work. If that’s your reality you might wonder where you fit into this WMHD conversation.

Mental Health Outside the Workplace

Mental health challenges can affect any of us, regardless of our employment situation. Employers aren’t necessarily great at supporting their employees, but many do make an effort. Those support structures and procedures aren’t available to you if you’re outside the workplace environment for any reason. The responsibility for your mental health and wellbeing falls much more on your own shoulders. You may also face specific challenges which don’t generally apply to people in a more traditional workplace setting.

Maybe you’re self-employed, handling the challenges of running a business. This may include the responsibility of employing, managing, and supporting employees of your own. Maybe you’re a freelance worker navigating the insecurities of living from one contract to the next. Maybe you’re a homeworking parent balancing the competing demands of work, home, and childcare. Maybe you’re a salesperson, driver, carer, or other worker who spends a lot of time working on your own or away your office or team environment.

Maybe you’re newly retired, adjusting to this new phase of your life, without the support structures you had when you were in work. Maybe you’re disabled or chronically ill, and have to manage your condition or symptoms on top of life’s other challenges. Maybe you’re a job-seeker dealing with financial worries, stress, disappointment, self-doubt, and the stigma (including self-stigma) of unemployment.

Whatever your situation, it’s important to remember that your experiences and needs are valid. They, and you, deserve respect, care, and support.

What Support Do Workplaces Provide?

Every workplace is different, but when I talk about mental health in the workplace I’m referring to policies and structures that exist to support employees, either formally or informally. They include:

  • A sense of routine and structure
  • Social interaction with colleagues
  • Performance recognition and feedback
  • A sense of identity or purpose
  • Access to internal or external employee support

Outside the workplace, many or all of these supports may be missing. Without them, you may need a different kind of support system.

Caring for Your Mental Health Outside the Workplace

How can you replicate the positive aspects of the workplace if you don’t have that formal structure in your life? People respond differently to structure but personally I like know what’s coming up in my day-to-day life. Consider using a paper calendar or app to keep track of what you need to do and when. Even a basic routine can help ground us, serving as a template into which we can fit appointments and other activities. Remember to allow room for yourself too. Be creative. A friend recently showed me the physical time-tracking tool she uses to keep herself on target.

Workplace assessments can be tedious but they provide feedback, reminding us of our value and helping keep us on track. Outside of the workplace, it’s easy to lose sight of our value. Make a point of checking in with yourself every now and again to acknowledge your achievements and monitor your progress towards whatever goals motivate you. Remember that success is a personal thing and not everything is to be measured against the criteria society sets up for us. I’ve written about this previously in For the Win! Celebrate Your Successes in Your Own Way. Your value isn’t defined by your productivity or job title. You are not “less than” for being outside the traditional workplace environment, whether that’s by choice or necessity.

If you’re not currently employed, or are employed in a non-traditional working setup, one of the most valuable things you can do for your mental health is to recognise and foster the supportive connections you have already. Whether it’s a friend or family member, therapist, or social network, connection is healthy in and of itself. There’s no one approach that works for everyone. I’ve written about different types of support system previously in such posts as Spokesfriends and Insular Groups: What Kind of Support Network Do You Have? and You Are Not Alone: Celebrating Community.

There’s a wealth of information and support available, online and locally, much of it free to access. Research charity websites relevant to your situation, community mental health hubs, and online and local peer support groups. If you’re unsure what’s available, ask your doctor for recommendations or a referral.

WMHD Really Must Be for Everyone

World Mental Health Day 2025 is focused on mental health in the workplace. It’s an important topic, but we need to broaden the conversation. What does workplace mental health mean in a world where not everyone has or wants a traditional workplace? Your day may not begin and end with a commute to the office. Your week or month may not begin or end with a paycheck. Nevertheless, your mental health and your needs are important.

This World Mental Health Day, let’s commit to making space for all kinds of work and all kinds of lives.

 

Photo by Chris Montgomery at Unsplash.