It still happens round here. I had a friend visiting from Sweden, we caught the bus and it was too crowded for us to sit together. I sat next to an old lady, my friend sat on the seat behind us.
The old lady pointed to a building and told me that she went to kindergarten there when she was 4. That she was still friends with two of the girls she met there, and that when they get together they haven't changed a bit, they are still the same people with the same sense of fun, despite now all being 75 years old and not quite so nimble as they were back then. We got into a conversation about how surprising it is to become old on the outside while remaining the same on the inside.
When she got off the bus and my Swedish friend moved to sit next to me she was very curious about the conversation we'd had. She asked how I knew the lady, and how often did we meet? When she found out that I'd never seen the woman before in my life her mind was blown.
She took loads of stories back to Uppsala with her. Including telling everyone that the local bus drivers sing a little song to everyone as they disembark from the bus. Her son asked me if that was true and I was baffled by it, until she sang the "song" for me. None of her English language lessons in Sweden had mentioned that in some places "ta ra" means goodbye, in her mind she decided that it was a little fanfare the local bus drivers had come up with to serenade their departing passengers.
I do remember chatting with someone at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere in Sweden in the 1980s, and gabbing away to them the entire journey. After about 50 minutes she said "I'm glad you spoke to me at the bus stop, it has made this journey pass more quickly. I was a bit worried, until I heard your accent and realised you were just foreign, rather than a mentally unwell Swede". After puzzling over that for a while I asked my Swedish friends what she meant by it and they all agreed that the only Swedish people who strike up conversations with complete strangers are either suffering from mental illness or have just returned from a long spell abroad.
They also explained that the reason people strolling in the park hastened their steps to get away when I greeted them with a cheerful "Good morning!" as we passed on the path, was that it was a short enough phrase for me to sound native so they were scared of what I might do next if they gave me any encouragement. One friend even said "They might be worried you'd follow them home".
After 25 years in Sweden I sometimes get taken by surprise by complete strangers accosting me on the footpath to compliment the colour of my socks, or ask if I had a good Christmas? Which does indicate that there are still some parts of the UK that haven't been completely conquered by the mobile phone. Though I do have to pull my ear plugs out to answer them, and then scroll back afterwards to find where I was in the audiobook or podcast before the interruption.