Today’s journey back to Wigan was via the dreaded replacement bus service! The news that trains are not running and that this is all that is available always results in a wave of panic washing over me. In truth, though, the journey was a smooth one. The bus was fairly empty and I was back at Wallgate within an hour of our departure from Manchester.

The outbound journey on Friday, however, provided some anxious moments that are common occurrences when using public transport. It began when I was making my way through the ticket barriers after alighting the train at Victoria station.

When using one immediately after someone else, as I did on Friday, the barrier doesn’t have time to close before you scan your ticket. This gives me an irrational sense of panic — did it definitely accept my ticket? Will it slam into me while I walk through? Will I be accused of being a fare dodger? I took a deep sigh of relief once I had made my way safely past the barriers.

Next up was the nervous wait to see how crowded the tram was, followed by the careful seat selection process. I always want to sit in a quiet section, and I keep everything crossed that the person next to me doesn’t want to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

There are other less-obvious considerations; sitting in a seat that is marked as ‘priority for the elderly/disabled’ is too risky, as this leads to a journey spent worrying about whether I will be confronted with the awkward moment when I have to ask someone if they would like my seat, which they are often reluctant to accept anyway.

I’m still mentally scarred by the memory of a misunderstanding on one tram journey over a decade ago. A pregnant woman was attending to her young child in a pram in the bay opposite her seat, but my view was obscured. I walked over to what I thought was a spare seat and sat down. It was only at this point that I realised what had transpired. I can still picture the look of shock and disgust that she gave me for stealing her place. I apologised and immediately vacated the seat, but she clearly didn’t believe that I was being sincere. A few stops later, she sarcastically informed me that another seat was now free. It was a genuine mistake but I felt like a real dirtbag.

I prefer to purchase paper tickets, so that I have some tangible proof of my right to use the service. On this occasion, however, I only had the time to tap in via my debit card. When it was announced that there were ticket inspectors waiting at the next station, I became concerned about whether they would be able to see that I had tapped in. Although I knew that they must have a device that can tell if a card has been used before boarding, I couldn’t help but worry that this would fail to work properly.

Would I be dragged off the tram, accused of fare dodging, and ordered to pay a £120 fine? That’s twice in one day that I had worried about being punished for not purchasing a ticket even though I knew I had done so. The people sat near me who had not bought tickets or tapped in seemed far more relaxed than I was! As it turned out, the inspectors did not enter the tram.

I also have to plot my escape route. When the tram is crowded, it can be difficult to make your way down the aisle. Today, I was sat a fair distance from the doors, so I spent the latter part of the journey fretting about whether I would be able to exit the vehicle in time. Fortunately, someone else was getting off at the same station, so I was able to let them clear the path for me! I’m often saved this way.

The journey threw up a few situations that made me feel anxious and paranoid. I also over-analysed everything. In the end, of course, it all turned out OK. In some ways it was symbolic of my voyage through life.