Firstly, I'm getting a lot of reading done. Two extra hours per day to be exact.
Secondly, I've had an excuse to wear the huge tweed coat I bought in 1976 and have barely worn in the last 15 years, ever since I moved to warmer climes.
Thirdly - my fellow travellers are endlessly fascinating. Like the woman tonight who decided to clean out her wallet during her trip. She must have had at least twenty - no exaggeration, I swear! - cards in her purse. Credit cards, store cards, loyalty discount cards - she fanned them out like playing cards then shuffled through them one by one.
Or the guy who sprawled out sideways over two seats, feet blocking the aisle, then proceeded to hold a loud mobile phone conversation that consisted mainly of the words 'Fuck' and 'they're so fucking dead.' I mentally catalogued him as 'hooligan' but for all I know he's a rocket scientist. Or maybe not.
But the best was the guy who sat beside me one morning last week, then extracted a dictionary and a pot of liquid paper from his backpack. He spent the trip leafing through the dictionary and whiting out words. I couldn't see which words he found objectionable, but I'd love to know why he was doing it.