"Caffein, Cameras and Commuting"

The daily commute is an 18th century trading anachronism, but even though we've grown from little villages and country towns to mega-million soul cities, we still partake. It's a mass madness in denial of communication technology, wasted time and unnecessary pollution. Me included.
My commute is usually on a bus shaded by sunglasses and a battered little ipod pretending to be somewhere else - parties last decade, waves last week, the Noosa Festival of Surf next month, the book I'll write when I get off the bus for good ("Caffein, Cameras and Commuting") - anywhere but in a sardine can on wheels squashed beside somebody talking loud on a mobile phone telling their mate about their day. ("I'm on the bus, yeah you too? How hot is it aye? Hang on we're goin through a tunnel.") Forget frequent flier points. I want frequent commuter points. When you get to a certain score, you score a free holiday away from the well heeled heels in the sardine can on wheels.