British people.

We're hilarious. 

As a race, a rule seems to have emerged among us over time that means we're not allowed to talk on public transport. Even when you're not in the quiet carriage on the train, you find yourself giving foul glares to the bloke on his phone at the end of the carriage going on and on and on about what he's having for tea that night. Mate, we don't care that you're having peas with it. Honestly. 

It's the one time we're even close to being rude, in our thoroughly British way of course. Lot's of huffing and puffing and bustling around. 

But I do think the silence rule has gone a bit too far. It means that if you ever are sat next to anyone and you attempt to start conversation in a friendly and neighbourly way, the recipient looks at you as though you are: a) a stalker, or b) about to axe them. 

I mean, I was on the train yesterday on the way back to Newcastle and I was at a table seat with two other people (which is difficult enough, what with the under-the-table foot-placement politics and all...), but then the train jolted forwards and someone's lunch from the overhead locker came flying out and hurtled down on top of us. And even as I made a timid "ooh" as a bottle of Sprite came plummeting down and cracked me soundly on the head, not a word. The bloke next to me calmly retrieved the sandwich from his crotch and put it on the table. Not a single word.

Good grief.

stupid

I was walking back from the Metro today and was watching a couple of men in hi-vis vests spraying graffiti off a wall. I then missed my turning, but there was someone behind me so I felt stupid turning back, so I made the next turn and realised that the pavement disappeared into the road of oncoming traffic.

Panic ensues. I then decide, "ooh, I know, I'll pretend that I got a call from a cool and interesting person asking me to meet them somewhere, hence requiring that I turn round and walk back." I proceed to walk back and make the right turn I should have made in the first place, while jabbering away down the phone to an imaginary person. Another guy is then walking towards me on the pavement - I'm still talking, giggling, and doing realistic facial expressions down the phone.

Then it rings. And the bloke looks at me. And I feel very stupid.

on the metro

The other day I saw an old couple (the husband was in a wheelchair) sat on the metro to the coast. They weren't talking, just sitting there quietly. But then the wife brought out a tube of Jaffa Cakes and peeled the lid off. She inhaled the smell of them deeply, and said a soundless "oooh." Grinning, she gave the tube to her husband and he smelled them too and they chuckled and enjoyed the smell together.

I hope when I'm old and on the metro I'll have someone to share the smell of Jaffa Cakes with.

a splash of colour

In the Metro station. Cheered me up and made me feel all sunny even though it's bloomin' freezing out now. It reminded me of here a bit as well, not sure why, but made me smile and feel a little warm and fuzzy.