But where do the men go?

On Sunday, for something different, I took myself off to Ballarat for the afternoon. It's a $10 each way ride on the train out there, a pleasant ride in clean carriages, with plenty of space. Even better, there's a quiet carriage where music and talking are kept to a minimum. The hour and a half ride goes really quickly. 

Once in Ballarat, I went to a nearby pub, a couple of minutes' walk away. 

"Hi, I believe there are some knitters in here?" I asked Hamish, the barman. 

"Though those doors," he said, "Jess is already here."

I thanked him and went and found my friend. 

Jess has a side hustle running yarn tours and events around the Goldfields regions. You can follow her on Instagram at Yarn Trail Victoria. I like to support my friends and spending an afternoon knitting in a pub sounded like fun. Jess is just back from a trip to Japan - I wanted to hear all about that too. 

So that's what I did between the hours of one and four. Sat in a pub with a pint of soda, lime and bitters and I knitted. 

And talked. 

To Jess's mild surprise, soon after the start time, there were 16 of us, sitting around and knitting. Other than Jess, I knew nobody. 

I'm what you'd call a seasoned knitter. My grandmother taught me when I was about five years old, and I've been knitting fairly plain patterns ever since. I've taught myself to do cables over the last few years - and I can do lacy patterns with some internet tutorials for assistance, but that is about it. 

There were knitters of all sorts of abilities from the rank beginners to those who sort out everybody else and do the intricate things like Fair Isle, advanced lace or making socks (never have I felt the need to turn a heel - my grandmother hated doing those.)

And we sat and we talked and we knitted. I've never met these women before. That's okay. The average age would have been somewhere in the mid 50's range. And we came together thanks to Jess's clever marketing on the socials. 

We talked about all sorts of things. Not just knitting.

Women, it seems, long for a bit of connections. Sitting in a room at a pub, knitting and talking, is connection. It was lovely. It's not as if anybody there will be coming a best friend, but it was lovely to be around good people who share an interest. 

The pub was great. The North Star Hotel in Ballarat was great. It's been recently renovated. I can see a few years ago it would have been one of those places that had sticky carpet, sodden beer mats and a number of ageing regulars with names like Barry or Dave. Not now. This is a really comfortable establishment with lovely staff and a decent kitchen. 

Then, three hours later, after some great conversation and getting a footy scarf for Jay underway, I walked back down to the train station and went back to Melbourne. 

It was a lovely afternoon. 

But my question is where do the men go after they turn 40? It's like they disappear. Do men have knitting groups, or book groups, or go on day trips to interesting places with other like-minded people? Or do they just sink into oblivion waiting for death to take them away once they turn 40?

I feel lucky to be able to do stuff like this, even if it is a bit hygge.

Today's song: