Be it bus, coach or train, there is almost certainly something that will annoy me or be potentially harmful on either the vehicle or the journey.

Today I would like to talk about the sweet, sweet joy that is:

The Long Distance Coach Trip and How To Survive It

When leaving to catch your coach, make sure you give yourself plenty of time. The last thing you want is to arrive late and get stuck in the seat that is so close to the toilet that you are forced to hear and more disturbingly, smell everything that is happening.

There is nothing more off-putting than trying to eat a cheese sandwich while a poor misfortunate soul smashes their head into the sink as the driver attempts an emergency stop.

You’ll find that 9 out of 10 drivers like to use the phrase “The front of the coach won’t get you there any sooner than the back” in a pathetic attempt to prevent people from pushing and from mob mentality running rampant.

Well, I have several things to say about that!

1) Nobody is pushing because they want to sit at the front mate. They’re pushing because they don’t want to end up sitting next to the mental bloke that has been shouting at his can of cider for the past hour and conspiring with the pigeons.

2) Actually you’re wrong! The front will get there sooner unless you are planning some kind of horrific stunt upon arrival such as a sideways skid into the coach station or perhaps a nifty reversing manoeuvre. Where exactly did you learn to drive?

3) For the next three hours or so we will all be confined to a seat that is neither ample nor comfortable. Our only exercise will be a walk down the aisle to the 2’ by 2’ cubicle that is described as a toilet but in fact would probably not be allowed to exist in most prisons. Please do not begrudge us this last burst of energetic movement, as we are loaded onto the coach like lambs to slaughter.

4) You’re not funny! Be quiet.

So, once the driver has exerted his authority over his cargo and made his funny joke and checked your ticket, you are free to desperately scramble to find a seat. My favourite place is a window seat near the middle. You’re close enough to the front to remain blissfully unaware of what’s going on in the chamber of stench at the back, but equally, you are close enough to said chamber to get to it without incident should the need arise (god forbid). I should just take a moment here to clarify what I mean by incident. I am not referring to pant-wetting, merely to somebody else getting up at exactly the same time as you causing one of you to have to hang around outside the door or face a humiliating walk back to your seat, defeated and still needing to pee.

On one journey I was safely and successfully in my seat, waiting for the coach to fill up and of course it did. Pensioners stayed mainly toward the front, day-trippers with backpacks and thermos flasks nearer to the middle and then I saw something I had hoped I wouldn’t. Something so horrible I almost cancelled the holiday I was about to go on and get off the coach.

A group of about 7 European tourists were heading my way. 7 male European tourists with long legs, and 7 empty seats including the one next to mine. “For the love of god!” I thought to myself. I was almost fast enough to execute the crafty ‘bag on the seat’ manoeuvre but alas it was not to be.

“I sit here?” said a voice.

‘Hmmmmm’ I thought to myself ‘That sounded more like a statement than a question. Perhaps he is brushing up on his language skills.’

“No no” I corrected him, “You STAND there”

“Ahh” he said “Sorry, I stand here. Please, Thank you”. And with that, he sat down.

So you see, my very clever plan to get a good seat is not without its flaws.

The journey began, which brings me nicely to my next important piece of self-help. Coping with the journey. The usual things to occupy yourself are always handy; books, iPod etc but there are other things that you may not have thought about. Things like an electric cattle prod for the lanky European who has taken it upon himself to make you his travel buddy.

Now for some reason and I haven’t quite figured out what it is yet, blokes on coaches can not sit sensibly. What I mean is, their legs always have to be at least 45cm apart at the knee. Maybe there’s some strange condition going around that affects men on coaches, causing their genitals to swell up to a monstrous size and preventing them from achieving the optimum seating position. Maybe their knees just don’t like each other. It’s very hard to say. All I know is, thanks to ‘I sit here?’ boy, I spent an entire journey playing seat wars.

Seat Wars – The Rules

The object of the game is to piss me off as much as you possibly can by spreading your hairy legs in their short shorts as far as you possibly can for as long as you possibly can without me exploding in a fit of fury and stabbing my opponent in the groin with a biro.

The winner is the person not bleeding by the end of the journey.

Sometimes I will engage in play by adopting a similar stance and pushing my opponents hairy leg back into his own space but I soon bore of that and before I know it, I’m reaching for the biro.

Other possible annoyances on coaches include parents screaming at their children, couples all but having sex in their chairs and all sorts of calamities involving the person next to you falling asleep. If you find yourself in this situation there are many remedies and fun ways to mess with their heads.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with people sleeping but as soon as their head falls over and lands on my shoulder, drastic action is required. If heavy sighing and tutting isn’t enough to wake up the irritating lump, it then becomes necessary to seek out more creative solutions. You can either opt for the physical solution or the psychological.

The physical is simple. A dead leg, clean and quick. Remember to gaze aimlessly out of the window immediately so you can’t be held accountable and leaving them wondering if they dreamt the whole thing.

The psychological is much more fun. Think of a random word, anything you like, and start saying it quietly into their ear, preferably something that might inspire an interesting dream. “Spider” or “Yeti” or something like that.

A third option is to get in touch with your creative side. Get out your make up bag (or a pen of some description) and get to it. The world is your oyster so why not give your travelling companion some pouting lips and well-defined cheekbones or maybe a nice moustache, and THEN execute the dead leg.