The six degrees of seperation

I was talking to one of my flatmates the other day when they accused me of being the only English person in the flat. Naturally I was a little surprised at this as Henry has an even more English accent than I do. As it turns out, he's from Wales, as I am. The ensuing conversation was interesting to say the least. He's from Aberystwyth and knows the town I went to school in quite well. This turns out to be because he knows a family from the area, old family friends from way, way back. I stuttered in shock at the names as I too, have known the family for years. My brother is very good friends with the eldest son (in fact, one of the scars on my forehead is as a result of the bright idea of his of using a car bonnet as a sledge one particularly snowy New Year...) and my brother was best man at his wedding a couple of years ago. A wedding which my new flatmate attended! I moved in with Henry about a month ago when I moved out of the hostel and was lucky enough to get a place in the flats opposite where quite a few backpackers live. Is it me, or does the world appear to be getting smaller