I made someone move out of their seat - I feel no shame

It may seem obvious that as a ticket payer, you should always have a claim to a seat (especially if the seat is spare). The times this is absolutely the case are:

• When someone decides that their bag is more worthy of a seat than you
• When a male (although occasionally a female) spread their body out over a seat and a half in a hope it will put you off sitting next to them
• When it is super busy and the available seat is in the middle of two people, squeezed in or requires people to move 

However, you cannot claim a seat if there aren't any available. Not even if you have a gold ticket (make sure you read next week's blog to read about this badge of honour). Having said you cannot claim taken seats, there are times when you can take a seat even if someone else is already occupying it. This is the case if pregnant, disabled, elderly, injured or feeling ill. Only the latter reason have I made a claim to (and only once). Let me tell you about it. I was recently travelling home on the train, you know, what I do every day! It was a freezing December evening. I had stayed late which meant I missed the only train that apparently runs smoothly, leaving me with evening delays and an additional change to try to contend with. I managed to take the first train without an issue, but it meant I had two minutes between my train arriving at the station and the best connection leaving on an adjacent platform. Without a backward glance, I set off running for the train - it would provide me with an extra 20 minutes at home which was preferential. Having made the connection, I was first struck by the lack of applause from fellow commuters - the train dash after all is the ultimate agility challenge which normally receives a side-ways glance of appreciation. The second point that struck me was the busyness of the train which had created an inferno and no available seats. I had no claim to them (refer to earlier list of options).

Given that it was winter, I was layered up to the max. After 10 minutes of standing, my core temperature spiked and travel sickness kicked in. What are my options? Fight a crowd to get to the toilet to be sick... I might not make it. Pass out... not ideal and would lose reputation for life, but it would avoid talking and inconveniencing other commuters. Get off the train? Considering the next stop was the stop I was getting, I didn't fancy my chances of a) prising open the door or b) surviving the leap from a moving train. I therefore broke every commuter rule going and in desperation, I asked an unsuspecting woman if I could have her seat as I was feeling very unwell. Thankfully, she must have been a commuting rookie as she got up very quickly and I was able to sit down, take layers off and control my breathing. That was a good choice for her, as by that point, I would have sat on her if she refused. All in all, my hero will never know how close I was from dying (a.k.a at least passing out) in the middle of the carriage.

I made my stop and sat in the waiting area until the nausea subsided. This put time on my journey and taught me that running for a train will raise my temperature and might not give me a chance to survey the busyness of the train before boarding. In case you are wondering, I have ran for other trains since, no one should underestimate the satisfaction of making a train when the odds seemed stacked against you. Plus, missing the train usually means standing in the cold and that leads to grumpiness.

Do I feel bad for making the woman move, no. But, I will try to pass on the thanks one day. After all, having a seat is the dream, but there are times of need on the train that cannot be ignored.

When I spotted a celebrity

What do you do when you see a celebrity, but cannot speak to them because of the 'no talking' commuter rule?

Let me start with being honest. Before I was a daily commuter, I liked to talk to people - whether I knew them or not, I would happily be pulled into a chat. Within the first week of taking the train to work, I turned into the ultimate none talker. For example, I will often leave my headphones in, even if my podcasts have run out and I have no other way of creating sound from my phone. Having headphones in your ears is like the ultimate warning against anyone even daring to make conversation (don't believe me, just try it). I would hate for anyone to be concerned though this early in the post, so let me reassure you that I store up all lost opportunities for talking to other humans, and both my current colleagues and my partner get it all instead - I assume they are very thankful for this.

Anyway, let's get back to the point of this post. Last week, I was sitting on a stopping service to London Waterloo, when I looked to my left and saw an A-lister. Not the unrecognisables that go on Big Brother, a real life famous TV celebrity. Who you ask? Well the one and only Iwan Rheon a.k.a Ramsay Bolton from Game of Thrones!! He was wearing modest clothes, a casual wool jumper and jeans. Considering his wealth, he wasn't showing off while he rides the 7.47am from Woking. My heart started to race. Iwan was two seats away from me on a quiet train. If I am ever going to speak to this guy, this was the time surely. But, wait, that breaks the sacred commuter rule! What do you do?! Break rules and say hello (while trying to appear cool obviously) or maintain order and miss an opportunity of a lifetime? While I pondered this, I just shamelessly stared at his side profile.

Five minutes of staring like an obsessed fan, and a couple of times leaning a bit more to my left so that I was an inch or so closer, I decided that as a "newer" commuter, I would have time to repent for my sins. This was it, time to think of something witty. Normally, I would bank on my humour, but I hesitated for a second too long which changed everything. In that time, probably sensing the insistent staring, Iwan looked full at me. Turns out, when I looked him square in the eyes, it was clear that this man definitely wasn't Iwan Rheon... cannot believe Iwan or this stranger could let me down like that. I guess there isn't much left to say other than maybe it would have been slightly more embarrassing to have said hello. My celebrity hunt apparently continues.

Converting to the commuter life

There are countless tales of train delays, price hikes and wasted hours travelling. When you aren't a commuter, you decide it would never be worth it (unless you are earning eye-watering amounts of money as an investment banker). I was the same. At the time, I was driving for around 40 minutes to get into work; I found my previous commute frustrating as it was repetitive and (ironically) long. It was one of the reasons that prompted me to start looking for alternative employment (there were other reasons too but my drive in was a factor). So what was the solution to my 80 minutes per day commuting to work? Simple, change jobs and double my commute. Not what you would traditionally call a logically move, but that was exactly what I did (I hear you and agree, that doesn't sound like much of a solution!). The truth was, I was offered a great role and title I thought I deserved, the package offered was enticing and it meant I got to work for a company where the people-focused culture matched my own ethos. After working out the financial costs of taking the train to work, as well as the time implications on my work-life balance, I jumped in head first and entered the mystical world of the commuter life.

Let me be clear from the outset - commuters are not like ordinary humans! Before I become one for too long and change beyond recognition, I will share with you what I observe, the highs and lows of train travel in the UK, and what being a commuter can teach you about human behaviour.

A few teasers of what is to come:

• There are unwritten rules of being a commuter that you learn fast. Rule one: even if you could avoid death by saying hello to another commuter, don't even think about it. As a solo traveller, speaking is not allowed under any circumstances (even if you know the person)
• There are two types of people. Those that help mums with their buggies or people with suitcases, and those that blur out any shred of evidence that other life-forms are using the trains
• The moment you step onto the train on your first commute, your brain convinces you that some kind of drinking ninja, allowing you to drink as much as you want after work and get home no problem - after all, you aren't driving. Sorry to say friends, trust me when I say that is not true!
• Non-commuters believe you have made a huge mistake - they don't ask how the commute is going, they tell you how bad it must be. For anyone willing to listen, I don't mind it. My opinion may change in six months but don't assume there are no positives. For one, you wouldn't be able to enjoy this blog