I'm sure we all have the experience of knowing someone by sight, but not knowing who they are.  They might be a person we pass every day on a regular journey, stand next to on a railway platform, or even a neighbour.  We will know some of their habits and may have invented some personailty traits for them or bestowed a private nickname on them. In some cases we may sort of nod an acknowledgement to them, but we have never spoken to them.

There is a fascinating article at the BBC website about a woman who started a project to start talking to these 'intimate strangers' and finding out about them.  I love the names that she, and others who have commented, have given to total strangers: 'man in the panama hat', 'the Australian', 'big ears', 'Dr Earwax, and 'yawning toast woman'.

I can identify totally with the whole phenomenon.  In my time I have shared a train journey with 'Nazi war criminal' and 'coat hanger man' – the man who had such wide shoulders that it looked like he had left a coat hanger in his jacket.  I always tried to avoid sitting next to him!  When I lived in Lewisham but worked in Putney there was a girl with red hair (dyed bright red: not ginger) who I sometimes saw at Brockley station, and then I started noticing her at Putney station.  My journey seemed such an unlikely one, I couldn't believe that anyone else was making it too.

The station assistant at Crawley station is another example.  After years of showing him a ticket I started talking to him one day.  It turned out that he was some sort of engineer in Uganda, working on hydro-electric projects, until Idi Amin threw all the Asians out so now he is doing a job he is vastly over-qualified for.

Despite the fact that it was interesting find out about the chap at Crawley station, and that I am still curious about why someone else should travel from Brockley to Putney every day, I think I prefer to leave strangers as strangers.  Having invested so much time and imagination inventing lives for these people, do I really want to find out they are just normal ?

Do I want to know about the bloke who gets on the 08:16 at Crawley who always seems to be reading Dan Brown?  Or 'Supermum' who changes at London Bridge with her tiny daughter zipping between the commuters on her mini-scooter?  I'm sure they are lovely people, but I think I prefer spending my commute in my own little world instead of the real one.