The Magic of Postcards. Small Notes, Big Connections

There’s something magical about opening the door, picking up the post off the mat and finding a postcard tucked between the bills and takeaway menus. A little rectangle of sunshine, carrying a message from far away, it’s a small piece of the world that’s travelled just to reach you. Unlike an email or a WhatsApp photo, a postcard has weight, texture, even the faint smell of salt air or foreign ink. You turn it over and there’s a scrawl of handwriting your friend’s or family member’s voice translated into pen on card. The handwriting, the stamp, the scuffs from its journey, all of it makes it more unique.

A postcard is more than a picture, it’s a snapshot of someone’s moment in time, a memory captured and shared in the most analogue way possible. They have the power to stir your own memories too, of places you’ve been, or ones you still dream of visiting. It’s simple, personal, and lasting in a way that digital messages never quite manage… even ones with a photo attached. We can all send them in a split second, even with ‘no network’ I still managed to send a few of those myself on my recent trip… What makes it special is its analogue nature. No filters, no algorithms, just ink pressed into paper. It feels human, deliberate, and lasting. The handwriting is just as much a part of the message as the words themselves, a direct trace of the sender’s hand across borders, seas, mountains. 

Postcards have always had this magic. The first official one was sent in Austria in 1869, and by the early 1900s they were the Instagram of their day. In Britain alone, more than 200 million postcards were sent in 1904, tiny souvenirs of travel, memory, and connection. People even collected them in albums, treating them as keepsakes as much as correspondence. Why so many in 1904 I hear you ask… well, the peak postcard times were 1890-1915 and if you think what was happening around that time… travel was booming, Railways and early tourism meant people were going on day trips and seaside holidays more often, and postcards were the perfect souvenir to send back home, they were also, extremely cheap, a stamp was a halfpenny, making it the most affordable form of communication ever, cheaper than a letter. On top of that, cities had multiple deliveries per day. So you could send a postcard in the morning and get a reply by the afternoon, they worked like today’s text messages.

I’ve been sending postcards since I was a child. I still remember the joy of finding one from my grandparents on our doormat when they went away on one of their many trips, such a small thing, but it could light up my whole day. That simple tradition has stuck with me, and I still send postcards now, sometimes from holidays, sometimes just because. Recently, a colleague mentioned they’d never in their life received or sent a postcard, so of course I had to put that right. I’m hoping that when mine arrives, it gives them that same little spark of happiness I’ve always felt.

The picture on the front might be cheesy, faded or in your view, oddly chosen, but that’s half the charm. It’s proof that someone paused their holiday, found a kiosk with one of those twirly stands, picked out a card, scribbled a note, went to locate a stamp from somewhere and then hunted down a postbox that may or may not actually work. That effort makes it more than a message, it’s a gift of that persons time and thought. You have occupied their minds whilst they are away and they want to share a moment with you… or just drop you a simple message of course. 

That being said, the last… batch, lets call it a batch, that I sent out, whilst I was on a trip to Italy, with me, I had a small Canon printer that prints on to photographic paper that has a sticky back. I went to a few places, snapped a photo on the Leica and then printed it off. A couple of times, I tried to ‘recreate’ what was on the front of the postcard, but add my take on it with a photograph of mine. Each postcard I sent had a different photograph though, so it was an individual postcard for each person. It wasn’t necessary, of course, but it was something a bit fun. Some may say that it was just me being ‘EXTRA’, but I enjoyed it. 

Unbeknownst to me, when I got back from that trip, waiting for me, were not one, but two postcards! One was from another friend and cooperator who regularly sends postcards to many people in the coop when they’re on their travels, I’ve never actually spoken to them about this and their thinking behind it, but I wonder if it’s similar to mine… I must ask… that’s my homework sorted. 

The other postcard was from a photographer named Will Malone, he has embraced the analogue world of the olden days… also known as my child hood… and is big into sending postcards, he sent me one that was actually a photo of his, taken in a branch of ‘Waffle House’. 

A postcard is a souvenir for the receiver, not the traveller. It’s a reminder that you were in someone’s thoughts, carried with them across miles. And when you tuck it into a drawer or pin it on the fridge… with a magnet, not an actual pin of course, it lingers long after the sender has unpacked their suitcase.

When I started to write this blog, I had just come back from my summer holiday and was keen to write it, but then, I decided that I would wait to post it until people had received the ones I sent from that trip, so not to spoil the ‘surprise’ I’d mentioned in the blog itself… but then, with time ticking on, I decided to hold off a little further… for a specific reason… Today, the 1st of October, is World Postcard Day! Of course, it felt fitting that this blog should be published on that date! I will be, no doubt posting some postcards today, just because… but, I also know that I will be on another trip soon, no doubt and will be sending cards from abroad, back home. 

I got home from work today (1st of October), after faffing about on crappy wifi trying to get this blog polished off and, there's another postcard here... this one is from a friend in Germany...

Anyway, I've gone on a bit, that’s the joy of a postcard is that they are small, simple, but always bigger than the space it takes up.