is that the daily commute is but a distant memory.

To understand this properly you have to know that here in Melbourne it is the middle of winter.

I hopped on the packed 112 tram from the seaside village of St Kilda and as I sat down on the only seat available I noticed one of my pet hates, the young bloke next to me had his feet up on the seat opposite, taking up two spaces.

I frowned but said nothing. I thought, "There are people standing in the aisles with nowhere to sit and you've got your feet on the seat. Good on ya dickhead." The tram took off down the street and a man in his 60's or so got up, weaved through the crowd and came up to us and said very aggressively, "Get your feet off the chair."

The young bloke took exception to this and started yelling at the old bloke. A fight was obviously brewing and I thought, "If anything happens I'll help the old bloke out." During a pause we shared a glance, a nod of acknowledgement that told him subtly (I hoped) that I was on his side and he could count on me.

Now, I dislike fighting as much as anyone but I was trapped, the tram was moving, and I was literally in the middle of these two with nowhere to go. I was involved whether I liked it or not, I had to pick a partner and I was firmly on the side of the older of the two.

They continued yelling, the words "Taxes" and "Respect" were thrown around willy-nilly. Then the strangest thing happened. The old bloke picked up some rags that were draped on a handrail. They were sopping wet and he started wringing them out on the floor.

The young bloke asked him what the hell he was doing and the old bloke said, "I've just been down to St Kilda to wash my clothes." I couldn't help myself I said, "You fucking what?"

He repeated it, and as if for emphasis he started flapping his shirt around, spraying half the carriage with drips. By now the entire tram was yelling at him to stop. He kept saying, "It's only seawater"

The young bloke next to me looked in my direction, the two of us shared a glance, a nod of acknowledgement if you will, that said on my part, "If this crazy old coot starts anything I'm on your side"

I have never changed sides in anything that abruptly in my life, I started off wanting to belt the youngster and two minutes later I had my fists clenched wanting to help him out.

When I got off the tram he was still wringing his clothes out onto the floor and the youngun was still yelling at him. It was the weirdest thing I have ever seen on public transport, that is if you don't count the bloke who sat opposite me once, he took off his shoes and socks and started chewing his toenails.

and so well past the stage of needing one of London Underground's "Baby On Board" badges to make it obvious, the GLW was hauled physically away by her rucksack from the sliding doors on a Central Line tube by a young lady commuter who clearly had greater need of the space therein. Apparently some of the other passengers went so far as to tut.

My own 'two seats occupied by one person on bus' story is much less violent but contains scenes of internal mental turmoil.

Boarding my regular bus in a rural Northumberland village, there were few seats remaining and one pair of seats occupied by businessman plus his bag. I politely asked if he could move his bag, please. He responded with 'I beg your pardon'? I repeated, could he move his bag, please. His response to this was 'Ah, you did say please. *Well done*'.

With which he moved his bag, I sat down and spent the 30 minute journey with an internal monologue that began with "You're the one occupying two seats and you're lecturing me on manners, you patronising get?" but remained unspoken. What I did manage to say as I sat down was a weak "Bus is very busy today isn't it". "*Seems* to be", came the reply. No more was said.

... I bought a bike. Greatest purchase I have ever made in my life.

Sorry for the edit, but I'd begun to sound like the bastard spawn of Littlejohn and Parsons. Anyway, no more pesky editing hijinks from me.

Commuter nightmares... a couple of years ago I was waiting for the missis at a bus stop, and she was on a bus heading in my direction. I'd then jump on the bus too, and we've head off to a party together. (We're both regular cyclists, but both our bikes were being repaired at the time.) As the bus pulled into the stop, I saw her waving from the back. Both sets of doors hissed opened, and I jumped in the back set, in order to give her a quick peck on the cheek, then immediately bounded up the aisle toward the front again, to slap my Oyster against the driver's reader, affixed to his booth.

There was a pause. He looked at me. "No" he said. "No."
"Sorry?"
"It don't work like that."
"Eh?"
"You don't get on in the back."
"But I came straight to the front - you saw me - as soon as I did."
"You have to get on throught the front doors."
"But I've swiped my Oyster."
"Get off."
"WHAT?!"
"Get off, and come in through the front doors again."
"And you're going to wait for me, are you?"

*No reply*

"You are going to wait for me, yeah? I mean, after all, I have just swiped my Oyster?"

*No reply*

"Okay then."

I got off.

The doors closed.

He drove off.

putting your feet up on a chair (where other people will be parking their clothed derrieres in due course) just plain rude? Full stop. Irrespective of whether the carriage is quiet or busy?

And isn't putting your luggage on a seat in a busy time just plain pig ignorant rude?

If you'll permit me an old sayings mash-up: Good manners cost nothing and they maketh the man (or woman).

...as someone who really doesn't like it when someone else sits next to me on the train on account of the length of my legs and their need for an offset insofar as aforementioned legs impede upon the space in the adjoining seat so as to prevent discomfort to ones knees and thus get the day off to a jolly poor start. Or summat. And I generally have to sit in the aisle-side seat if I'm to have any hope of fitting in at all.

But I always smile and move over when asked...

2 baggage-related habits have become prominent on the London underground in the past few years:

1) Rucksacks, and an apparent inability for anyone to take them off, hence taking up the space of 2 people when standing, and clouting surrounding commuters in all sorts of places while turning around to talk to their fellow rucksack-waering companion...

2) Those little suitcases with the wheels and pull-out handles - not the big holiday-bound fellers mind, I mean those little ones that are just about big enough to hold a punnet of cherry tomatoes and a box of matches... anyway, why on earth do these people insist on stopping to set the bag down and pull out the handle THE SECOND THEY GET OFF THE TRAIN, hence holding everyone else up while they save themselves the huge effort of actually carrying the bag the full 6 feet to the other side of the platform...

Beyond that, in all honesty I've been surprised that the big influx of (out loud) music players hasn't happened (yet), though the odd times some git does decide to treat the carriage to his favourite tunes (always rap, for some reason), it's dreadful, as in virtually every case you can tell they're just trying to start a fight...

2 baggage-related habits have become prominent on the London underground in the past few years:

1) Rucksacks, and an apparent inability for anyone to take them off, hence taking up the space of 2 people when standing, and clouting surrounding commuters in all sorts of places while turning around to talk to their fellow rucksack-waering companion...

2) Those little suitcases with the wheels and pull-out handles - not the big holiday-bound fellers mind, I mean those little ones that are just about big enough to hold a punnet of cherry tomatoes and a box of matches... anyway, why on earth do these people insist on stopping to set the bag down and pull out the handle THE SECOND THEY GET OFF THE TRAIN, hence holding everyone else up while they save themselves the huge effort of actually carrying the bag the full 6 feet to the other side of the platform...

Beyond that, in all honesty I've been surprised that the big influx of (out loud) music players hasn't happened (yet), though the odd times some git does decide to treat the carriage to his favourite tunes (always rap, for some reason), it's dreadful, as in virtually every case you can tell they're just trying to start a fight...

where do I start with things which annoy me when commuting in London:

* people who see a queue for a tube and still try and push in at the side - they hate it when you push them out of the way
* people who always take the aisle seat when there is a seat near the window
* the strip on season tickets which regularly fail and which mean you cant get through the machines without waving it at a LT person
* the stupid rule which prevents a standard class passenger from standing in a '1st class' vestibule on first great western trains
* people playing their mps players too loud because they haven't realised that apple earphones are crap and they need to buy some decent ones
* the jubilee line

I want to get a badge that says "There's no 'We' in iPhone. Turn it down."

I used to enjoy it when I joined the train to sit next to one of those men (always men) whose a*se and thigh encroached the seat that is clearly mine. I will sit tight up against him, in a broken personal space/could-he-be-hitting-on-me kind of way. Then, when he inevitably adjusts his position away from me, I likewise readjust and encroach ever so slightly on his side. And then over the coming minutes readjust back to my rightful space, inevitably with the phrase You Fat Cu*t not far from my mind.

On my daily train home from Waterloo, there are times when the guard just will not shut up. He just drones on and on over the PA about where the train will stop, when it will get there, don't forget your luggage, first class is for first class tickets only, where the toilets are, etc etc ad nauseum. He recently managed to talk all the way from Waterloo to Vauxhall.

And then there are my lovable local bus drivers. Does anyone hate their customers more than bus drivers?

I was in one of these last week and three Estate Agents came in and sat around me. I know their names and occupations because they all took, and made, lengthy mobile phone calls in between their hilarious office banter.

After about 20 minutes, there was a lull in cellphone activity so I asked the nearest one whether there is any point of having "Quiet Zones" on trains? I read what it says on the sign about not using mobile phones. I was being far too subtle because he agreed that it was "a bit stupid" and then answered another call.

..that are now irritating the hell out of me:

1. Aggressive newspaper flickers. There's so little room on SW Trains seats that if you open up a tabloid-size newspaper you're bound to be encroaching on your neighbour's airspace each time you turn a page. But to turn each page with such an aggressive arm movement that you're practically punching someone in the face and perpetrating serious paper burns is ridiculous - but surprisingly common. Berks.

2. Floor Squatter. Given that the chance of a seat in peak hours between Woking and Waterloo is zero, I spend an inordinate amount of my £3500 annual rail card time standing up in the 'lobby' area in between the carriage entrance doors. To have someone 'sit' opposite you on the floor and stretch their legs out either side of yours is not only a total violation of personal space but a massive waste of standing space. Idiots.

3. Bike Swingers. I 'get' the whole foldable bike thing but do they all have to be so militant about their right to wang into the aforementioned 'lobby', swing the bike around like a mace and fold in a millisecond - as though there's always some manic competition to see how quickly they can do it? Just how close to somebody's knee can they get without causing permanent injury. Tossers.

4. No Hold-Onners. I know little about the inertial energy of fast moving trains except that if you're in the 'lobby' area and you're not holding on then at some point you will be 'accelerated' into another passenger. It's science or something. It hurts. Hold on to something you morons!

5. Eaters. Given that there are just micro-millimeters between passengers, the idea of stuffing your face with a KFC (no paper tissues) or even a Delice de France 1 metre baguette, is abhorrent to everyone else on the train. Why can't you see that? We can all smell what you're eating.

6. You're Not There-Ers. There's a type of person who has so little empathy that the existence of other human beings barely registers. People will come into the 'lobby' and position themselves, usually with their back to you, as if you are not there. My nose has been 5-7mm from someone's shoulder blade for 28 minutes. As though I really wasn't there. I was so passive aggressive that I did nothing. Expecting everyone to see the ridiculousness of the situation. No one saw. In a similar vein, these same people are the most vicious 'Hold-Onners' around. Nothing will stop them launching an arm like a grappling hook onto a hand rail even if that extended arm is now resting on your lower lip. So what. Taste the tweed.

7. Farters. I know it's ubiquitous but there's something about the 'lobby' environment that amplifies the problem. If there's only two people standing in the lobby area it's very hard to 'avoid' the blame. I've noticed a tendency to sniff in quite loudly - as if to say: "Gosh, I've just smelt something that's not of my doing". Once someone's played that card you can only get into a sniffing race and ultimately no one wins. If you fart, fart for god's sake. Deal with it silently and let the blame linger on everyone discretely.

On the C Train from Humanes to Madrid ( Spain ), a daily commute of 35 minutes, we see our share of noisome oiks, wheedling drug addicts, demented buskers, religious nutjobs and agitated drunks.
In May 2005, a solicant`s spiel turned into a political rant and then a full blown conspiracy tirade on the March 2004 train bombings that hit Madrid. Needless to say this was a wee bit too much for the fed up passengers and after a brief shouting match, the paranoid lunatic was forcibly ejected at the next stop to thunderous applause.

A few years back, during, I think, the 1998 World Cup, I was having to stand on a homeward bound train from Waterloo to Winchester. It was pretty crowded.

One minute before departure, a bloke got on (I use the term loosely - he half fell, half slithered on) and collapsed on the floor, amongst people's feet. He was late 40's, in a suit, and the most completely pissed man I have ever seen - and I've seen a few. He was unable to speak (made some weak, apparent attempts at banter to people's shoes), he couldnt get up, he tried to crawl towards the loo but didn't even make that before collapsing again. And, (I am ashamed to relate and you will not be surprised to learn), apart from the occasional tut, we all simply pretended he wasn't there. Even when he wet himself. Quite copiously.

Why do you think we're so hopeless in the face of these things?

an elderly woman with a crutch, and a teenage boy, got up at the same time from their seats on opposite sides of the aisle when the bus stopped. The boy accidentally placed a leg in front of the womans leg, causing her to trip ever so slightly, and he immediately apologized profusely.
Everyone on the bus was chocked at her response...she started to shout aggressively that she would smash his face in, he was a rude f***ing asshole, she would kill him, etcetera, louder and more aggressive the more he tried to explain and apologize, chasing after him and his terrified girlfriend.
She looked like a little old grandmother, but she sure sounded like a drunken sailor in a bar brawl!
But I have to say that most of the time my commute is perfectly nice, and so are my fellow commuters, the busdrivers are friendly and some of the funniest and nicest moments I have experienced have taken place on buses, trains and on bus stops and train platforms.
But maybe that's because I never travel at rush hour...I work odd hours so I travel to work mid day and travel back home really late in the evening. Plenty of room for everyone and my fellow travellers are relaxed and carefree.

Last November, about a mile from where I live, a bridge over the local river collapsed during terrible rain/ flooding. Subsequently my quick five minute drive to work turned into a 40 mile round trip on unlit, icy roads, mostly in the dark, sharing these narrow roads with all the commercial lorries, it was at best not nice, & at its worst, it was fucking scary.