How to get help with your luggage

Working 5 hours away from home means having to lug a lot of luggage on and off the public transport system twice a week (hm, maybe that's why they call it luggage...). At times, I have my huge suitcase, another wheelie suitcase, a backpack, snacks, and my handbag. Not an easy job getting all that up 2 flights of stairs at Victoria station.
Here are my slightly devious suggestions for gettting help from stronger members of the community. Just remember to look ever-so-surprised when they work!


The most basic transit rule is "one hand free, at the drop of a hat" (or bag, as the case may be). This doesn't necessarily mean you have to have a hand free at all times. It just means, if you are about to fall down the stairs, you already know which hand is going to let go of a bag. This also applies for random nose scratches and the flicking of hair out of the mouth. Forethought is forewarned.

Something happens at train station ticket turnstiles that turns perfectly decent human beings into eye-rolling, push-past-ing monsters. Even the man who has carried all your bags from Brighton to Worcester will drop it all and make you fend for yourself at the sight of the gates. For this reason (and so that you aren't trampled to death by shiny-shoed peak hourers), ticket accessibility is absolute key at all times. So, when approaching gates and turnstiles, have yours ready in an open pocket, up your sleeve, or even in your mouth (don't laugh, it's worked for me!). This is not the time for fumbling around finding the 3 tickets you need (yes, there are 3 tickets for every stupid journey).

Stairs:

1. Approach the top or bottom of the flight of stairs, take a deep breath, and lift your heaviest bag as high as you can. Pause for effect. Resist holding a hand to your forehead, damsel-in-distress style.
2. Usually the pause results in a slight backlog of people who a) do not have luggage and b) are in a hurry. Most times, this in turn results in a rise in the anger levels of those behind you. The person behind you is the one who gets the brunt of the anger, and, if it's someone stronger than you, they usually exasperatedly pick up your heaviest bag, and carry it for you. Success!!
3. If step 2 is unsuccessful, carry on. I never have to fake a struggle, as carrying half my bodyweight in 4 bags will never be easy. If you need to, pause between steps, re-adjust the load, and hope that step 2 gets a second chance with someone else who is kinder than the person who ignored you the first time and has pushed past you.
4. If step 3 is unsuccessful, carry on, slowly, if only as punishment for those who do not offer to help you. Utter the mantra, "there will be another tube. There will be another tube".
5. It is perfectly acceptable to just drag your suitcase up or down the stairs, creating as much noise as you can. Mine has survived many a flight of stairs being dragged, thump-thump-thump style. It also helps release a lot of the exasperation over the fact that no-one helped you.
6. Don't consider standing at the top and just throwing it all down the stairs. Each time I've considered this, I've noticed a small child or elderly pensioner making their way down the stairs in front of me, and I've come to my senses.

Trains:
Bags on first. Then you. Unless you want to create a scene trying to get your bag unwedged from the gap. The tube man doesn't yell MIND THE GAP every 5 seconds for kicks.

Buses:
This is not the time to prove your youth and agility by using the top deck of the bus. Avoid eye contact with the elderly and those with child and use the pram area for your bags.
Look apologetic. Or pregnant. Hate to admit it, but I have actually put a hand to the small of my back once or twice. Desperate times.

Taxis:

1. Be grateful a cab stopped for you at all. Seeing a girl with a suitcase 1/2 a mile from the nearest station means a pretty low fare.
2. Move to the boot and wait for the driver to pop it open. If he doesn't get out, put away your tiara and lift your cases into the boot. If you really can't lift your cases into the boot, keep your tiara on and pretend you don't know how to open the boot. A taxi driver is unlikely to drive away with a popped boot.
3. During the ride, prepare for the next task by striking up a conversation about DVT's, reminding the driver that those who remain seated for long periods of time are at higher risk of developing them.
4. At the end of the journey, get out of the cab waving around a £20 note for encouragement, and hope for the best. If they don't get out to help, give them the business card of the hospital and ask them to go for dopplers next time they get a checkup.

Please don't get me wrong. I don't expect anyone to help me. But it is nice when someone does, especially when the escalators are out of action. You just need to remember to say, in your best English accent, "thanks ever-so-much. You've been awfully kind. One always has a better day when one sees the kindness of strangers. Have a wonderful day."
Muttering in aussie brawl "thanks, mate" likely results in a raised eyebrow and a burnt bridge for the apparent lack of gratitude.