Everyone has a story to tell.

Anecdotal reflection on a recent trip to Austria

A two-week hiatus from writing and ten days spent in Austria gave me some breathing space from the current work madness.

One of the most striking differences I noticed was the genuine friendliness and kindness of the Austrian people, a stark contrast to the more reserved nature of social interactions in the UK.

It was refreshing to see people making time for each other and engaging in face-to-face conversations without the distraction of a mobile phone.

As we travelled back to the UK, we stopped in a gorgeous Flemish town, Leuven, on the borders of the Netherlands. Flemish-speaking Belgians have a dialect that is distinct from Dutch.

A university town filled with students on bicycles charging down cobbled streets, death-defying at times.

It is filled with beautiful architecture, shapes and symmetry.

How has its past been imprinted on its present history? I wondered as we toured the city.?

We walked along the streets, trying to take in as much as possible in our short time there.

People stood on corners or outside shops and the numerous cafes, talking and laughing.

My husband and I said, in unison, "When did you last see people laugh and joke like that back home?"

We managed about four hours in the late afternoon and evening, enough time to experience the town in all its glory.

Full of cafes and delightful independent shops, another aspect that has vanished from the UK high street.

We stumbled upon a lovely retro Paris-influenced cafe with a Flemish undertone—at least, it reminded me of old Paris café posters with people sipping coffee.

As we sat and drank our early evening aperitif, I was struck by the number of people of all ages simply content to drink, eat and chat.

Two women look like they are meeting for the first time. Are they future friends, lovers, or business partners?

Two very old men gave the waiter a friendly wave of the bird finger.

How long have they known each other, and how long have they been coming to the cafe?

In the far corner, an elderly couple holds hands. They look wistfully into each other's eyes. How long have they been together?

The absence of mobile phones was omnipresent.

Shortly after 5 pm, four elderly gentlemen, dressed smartly, walked in.

Is it a place where the older generation likes to assemble, talk about business or catch up with a friend?

As I look at the faces, I'm sure they all have a story to tell.

I see the joy on the waiters' faces as they willingly serve their customers while chatting to their regulars.

How long have they worked here? I wondered, enjoying the banter with the cafe's clientele.

How many stories do they secretly know from the comings and goings of the cafe?

To the left of us sits a middle-aged man sipping his beer. He's alone and contemplating a second beer.

Is he married, divorced, single, or sneaking a beer before returning home to his wife? Yet he looks joyful.

Two women chatting about their business in good English are to our left.

They are awaiting the arrival of a third woman they are interviewing to help market their brand, which, from what I can discern, is custom-made umbrellas.

Are they hoping this woman can take their business to the next level? Is she right for their company?

Two elderly women warmly embrace each other, and there is genuine love and affection in that hug. How long has it been since they last saw each other?

I watch what looks like a university lecturer making notes.

He is shrew-like, with a small nose and a large face, but his ebullient features are friendly and inviting.

His face beckons you in, and I am sure he would step in if you needed help. I wonder if his students appreciate how much he cares about their success.

One thing all these people appear to have in common is laughter.

There's the constant thrum of chatter, and no mobile phones are in view except for the one my husband is holding. At that moment, I feel I've become a slave to my device.

Constantly in a state of anxiety, if I misplace it when, I'd have great joy flushing it.

Why do we seem to have lost the joy of chatting, laughing, and sharing stories?

Has joy gone? Disappeared over the horizon. Has life become a dark vacuum?

The UK has its fair share of woes, and the stark reality is we have lost joy.

And I am so aware of it, so mindful that we’ve stopped laughing; some of the funniest TV shows from the 1970s and 80s that now run on YouTube have been censored.

A lovely café like the one we found in Leuven does not stifle the chance to meet up or prevent the flow of conversation because it closes at 3:30 pm.

Eventually, the three women finish their interview by revealing hand-painted umbrellas.

It looks to have gone well for the business owners, the creatives, and the woman being interviewed, but I shall never know.

Leuven is full of creativity and vibrancy, cyclists, walkers, and runners; it is a thriving city of people who enjoy talking and laughing with each other.

And we could all do with some of that right now.