Max - the best friend I never met

It has taken me a lot of time to pluck up the courage to read this blog, as I have felt for a long time that I had no right to. I was one of the Cadiz Erasmus students, and yet I never met Max, as I arrived in Spain merely hours after his untimely death. One of my best friends from Durham university, Tom, had been in Cadiz since September and before my arrival he had told me about how amazing life out there was. I think Tom could tell that I was apprehensive about coming to an unknown lifestyle in Spain, but he assured me: "Don't worry, I'll get you introduced to all the Erasmus students, we'll have a great time. There's a few English people out here... Steph, Rob, Jo... And wait until you meet Max!"

I had spoken to Rob, Steph and Jo all before I came to Spain via MSN Messenger and email, but for some reason, even though I had Max's email address, I never got in contact with him. I suppose I just assumed I'd get to know him when I got to Cadiz.

When I arrived, Carnival was erupting - it was amazing. I had my heavy bag on this bus that was stuck in the middle of a road blocked with traffic, and I smiled to myself, knowing that from February till June, I was going to have some of the best moments of my life. And yet all the students I met were distraught. Absolutely shell-shocked. I did not realise at that point who Max was, and I don't think I ever will.

From an outsider's point of view, it was amazing to see what an incredible effect someone could have on so many people's lives. It's so strange seeing all these photos of people with Max, people that have since become some of my best friends, and not know the guy in the middle with the ever-present smile and curly hair. The more I read about him, the more I get upset that I never met him. I am certain we would have become amazing friends just from the everyone else's descriptions of him. And in a strange way, without ever meeting Max, and never knowing him or even hearing the sound of his voice, I feel like I do know him. He sincerely reminds me of someone, someone I can't put my finger on... I sort of feel that he reminds me of that person everyone knows. The funny guy, the cool guy, the one that everyone turns to and says, "What's the plan for tonight, mate?". The person you turn to if you have a problem, or if you want someone to cheer you up, or just someone to talk utter rubbish with. This is what Max is to me: the stranger I never met, the centre of attention, the one everyone knew, and most of all, the person everyone secretly wanted to be.

After reading the posts on this blog, I cannot imagine the pain Max's family must have gone through, and are still dealing with. It was very strange to briefly meet Max's parents in Nahu, without meeting the top lad himself, and I take the opportunity to apologise for what must have seemed a very rude introduction from myself. Mr and Mrs O'Connell - I was terrified.

The pain must be equally great for Max's friends, the ones from home, and the ones he met Cadiz. It is through you all that Max lives on. The only solace I hope you can find is that, although this person you knew, this life and soul of each and every party, has unfortunately passed on, please take comfort in the fact that you did know him. Although he was a big part of your life before passing away, please be glad that he did touch your life. In a very strange way, I feel he has touched mine.

Thanks, Ross Urmston