The evolution of snail mail

I had post last night.

It had a hand-written envelope - oh, that's the good stuff.
That means it'll be something nice, something interesting. This was definitely not a bill.

A slight sinking of the heart then, on discovering it was a leaflet to a art course I had been looking at online. And from April, soaring postal costs will probably mean the option of having something sent by mail will only diminish further.

"I saw this and thought of you" was the major post office campaign to get people re-connecting by royal mail again and it worked, at least for a little while.

People imagined once again opening letters from grandparents and seeing a Natural History Museum dinosaur rubber tumble out. Or a knitted scarf from an auntie in Wales.

And then we metropolitanised - even on our coasts and in our valleys - with email, Facebook, Twitter, mobiles, online banking and electronic billing.

Why post when you can post to someone's Facebook wall? Why send when you can do just that on email without ever being weighed with the burden of knowing what street they live on.
What real need is there for 'snail mail' anymore?

My other half's father collects old postcards. Not the 'wish you were here' type from abroad, but black and white, tea-stained, local communication tools.

The best ones, I've learned, are the ones that have been written on, a voyeuristic peep into life decades ago when carriages rattled down cobbled streets and local bobbies wore hats which teetered skywards.

From the small town of Newquay a good deal of these postcards were sent upcountry from holiday-makers in the very tropical holiday destination of Cornwall.

But a good fair few are even more fascinating. "See you at 5pm for supper" sent at 10am that day from a neighbouring village. A little investigation throws up that post used to go not once, not twice (even I remember those days) but three or four times a day.

A local card could be posted in the morning and be happily at its destination not long after lunch. I still have daydreams of finding one which says something like 'Darling, waters have broken, meet me at hospital" - not impossible in a time when you more-than-likely not only knew your postman's name but the names of his wife and children (who probably went to school with yours).

It was a more romantic age, that's for sure. Love letters, letters from abroad, pictures of family additions, parcels at birthdays.

All replaced by a back-lit screen and an Amazon voucher. It's certainly change, but not necessarily progress.