I'm not talking about those morons who pursue land-speed records in super turbo-charged cars, or those fools who insist on clambering up the worlds' highest mountains: the danger they expose themselves to is obvious but they choose to expose themselves to it. I'm talking about people like you and me who lead pretty mundane unspectacular lives, those of us going about our daily business who invariably find ourselves ending up in pretty dangerous situations: close encounters of the blind kind if you like. I've managed to compile my own list boasting people who at one time or another have been crashed into by motorists, sent spinning by reckless cyclists, and even pinned against a set of railings by a lorry! All pretty frightening scenarios but miraculously quick and full recoveries have been made. I'm racking my brains but can't come up with anyone who has died as a result of one of these contretemps. Sod's law dictates it'll happen when I've finished writing this!

As a keen traveller in a big city, I have had my fair share of scrapes with people shielded behind tonnes and tonnes of steel. I can't lay claim to actually being hit in the street, but I have been aware of cars passing perilously close mid-crossing and I've often had to step back onto the pavement to avoid being crushed under the wheels of a bus. Living in the ppulsing metropolis probably increases my chances of coming to a sticky end in the street ten-fold: cars speeding past ignoring the green man, cyclists zipping about silently, and bus drivers paying no heed to other road users and pedestrians. Surviving the rat-race definitely requires you to keep your wits about you at all times. This ever-present element of danger is undoutedly exhilarating and is one of the many reasons London can be such a vibrant place to be in. The downside of it is that the constant cacophony and bustle in the centre of the city don't help when it comes to crossing roads. I reckon you could go through five years of mobility training and be the most confident person on the planet but you would still find yourself dicing with death just trying to get from one side of the street to the other. Vehicles blast their horns and swerve erratically all the time but I haven't a clue if that's because they're dodging me or because a courier has weaved in front of them. I must've cheated death on numerous jaunts but oblivious of what's going on around me, just carry on regardless. I know I came pretty close last week though. I was about to stride across a side street when someone on the other side of the road shouted "no!" I instinctively yanked my dog's harness back and hastily retreated to the pavement. When I finally made it to the opposite kerb, I was greeted by a panic-stricken passer-by who informed me in a shaky voice that I had nearly walked in front of a double-decker bus. He sounded far more stressed than I felt. I hadn't actually been hit after all.

Personally I've tended to come a cropper on train journeys. Last-ditch shouts of "no!" have prevented me getting off the train on the wrong side before, but I have managed to make it onto the rails via a fall from the platform four times (I can only remember four anyway). On each of my trips I was striding purposefully down a deserted platform when all of a sudden I felt no ground beneath my left foot and, well, just lost my footing landing awkwardly with one leg on and one off the edge of the platform. Cursing profusely and feeling nauseous from the searing pain in my knee, I hauled myself up, dusted myself down, picked up my new banana-shaped pear-tipped cane and continued gingerly to the waiting room to await my connection. The first time this happened to me my over-riding emotion was intense frustration at apparently being incapable of walking in a straight line down the platform, I was self-confident and took pride in being an independent teenager. It took me an hour or so to actually realise how lucky I had been. The station had been fairly empty and the people that had been there were milling around quite a long way further up the platform. What's more trains had been chugging in and out of the station all the while. Looking back on it now, I still don't think I fully appreciated the potential consequences of wandering off the platform. By the time I'd done it three times I just considered it an inconvenience: the sharp pain in my leg numbed eventually, the thick black oil washed out of my trousers and my cane could be straightened again. I'm a devout atheist but thinking about it I can only thank god for what I got away with.