Esther

If I had travelled down to Yorkshire in a car, I shouldn't have been grateful for and soothed by the help of Rosie in the ticket office of Berwick railway station when I realised I'd forgotten to print off my train ticket and who made sure my journey was still possible without any fuss or added expense.

I would not have met Esther - a wonderful and sweet-natured assistance dog which I fell utterly in love with and her lovely owner Susan, whom I've arranged to meet at a later date for coffee.

I wouldn't have been charmed by a group of very amiably drunk young things on their way to a football match in Newcastle who tried very hard (and managed) to flirt without overstepping the mark. And who completely forgot we were in a quiet carriage and whom nobody minded in the least, so infectiously happy were they.

I wouldn't have met Ravi and spent two very pleasant hours discussing travel, living in strange towns, settling into strange countries and overcoming racism in all its nasty, insidious 'I'm not racist BUT' guises. I would never have guessed that a Hindi who is abused for being Muslim simply turns the other cheek rather than correct anyone because it would only serve to condone and compound the fear of Muslims.

And I wouldn't have been able to enjoy a glass of wine to help wash away the bad taste of some unwelcome correspondence received via the wonders of that little computer in my pocket along the way.

I certainly wouldn't have met my cousin feeling nearly as relaxed and happy and in love with this life and the people I meet as I am. Most of the time.