It's oh so quiet...

For about five minutes after arriving at the station on Thursday morning, this was my view. Darkness. No people. Not a single solitary soul.

I was beginning to wonder if there had been an apocalypse and I'd slept through it.

Or had there been an unexpected public holiday announcement that I'd missed?

Or, less dramatically and more realistically, that the trains had been cancelled, and everyone else had remembered to check the train running times before they left the house.

Six minutes after my arrival, all those thoughts were abandoned as the trail of commuters to the train shelter began.

You can tell a lot by how people act at train shelters. Some classic types that I have observed in my decade and a half of commuting are:

• The Doorway Hoggers - obviously experts at the Hokey, Cokey; they won't actually come into the  the shelter itself, but they don't want to stand outside either. So they hover in the doorway, making it impossible for anyone to get in without dancing around them. They're determined to be first on the train, so when the train comes, you won't get past them until they're good and ready to move.
• The Sleepwalkers - it's way too early for them. They get in the shelter, preferably in the corner and lean themselves up against the stand, and zone out till the train comes. They're a peaceful sort to have around.
• The Drama Students - ok, so they may not actually be studying drama, but they sure know how to project their voices. 'Private conversation' is a concept unfamiliar to them. Brian Blessed would envy their ability to ensure that everyone in the shelter (and within a two mile radius) can hear every syllable of their conversations.
• The Non-Commuter - they don't normally travel at this time of day. They're taken aback by the number of people waiting for the train. They're carrying at least three highly impractical luggage items. Every two minutes they exclaim how busy it is, and ask if there's something big happening today, not quite able to believe this is normal. This constant refrain is only interrupted by them asking over and over if they're at the right platform and asking person after person if this train stops at their desired station. You want to help them, and they're sweet; but sweet very quickly turns to sickly. So, you can only take these in small measures.

There are more, but I'll leave these for another day.

Thursday's tiny triumph

 I got a single seat in the journey in. No being wedged out of the way by someone's bag!