Easter weekend... I chose to take advantage of the holidays to go on a mini- break to the beach. I chose the Dorset coast, a short jaunt down the motorway with plenty of charm and seaside tat in equal measure.

As a last-minute decision (and also because I’m a cheapskate) I opted for a night in a youth hostel. I thought it fitted the retro charm of seaside faded grandeur.

Youth hostelling is a public affair, what with shared bathing, dorms and a convivial environment; that’s why it’s cheap.

Now I’m not one to be shy, so sharing spaces is fine by me; even as a wheelchair user I don’t care.

Except, that is, when it comes to small talk.

After a fun day of chip butties, 2p slot machines and Mr Whippy cornets, my friend and I were reading the paper and vaguely watching a film in the communal lounge when in wandered another guest.

After a few minutes of Dorset chit-chat the conversation started to dry up, so when my friend nipped out, our guest just couldn’t resist asking ‘so why are you in a wheelchair?’.

My heart sank, as it always does in this situation, and not because I am embarrassed or unable to talk about what happened to me, but because it puts me in awful position.

My head says: ‘It’s none one of your business’ but if I say that out loud I come across as a bitter and aggressive person, which is not the case, so fortunately my heart says: ‘just tell him’ which then leaves me feeling like I have been forced into revealing something which is intensely private.

It’s a quandary I face more often than you would expect.

Old people in wheelchairs are expected, young “fit” people are not. Indeed, it feels like people just have to say something to diffuse the awkwardness. But please don’t.

Take bus stops for instance, the preserve of strangers forced to linger.

It is quite often that people will strike up conversation to avoid the discomfort of being alongside a wheelchair user. So upon hearing the dreaded question… what do I do?

Well, one of my friends said I should reply: ‘I got into a fight at a bus stop...’.

I liked that one.

Or simply: ‘What’s your chronic health condition then?’. But again it’s passive-aggressive and unnecessary.

So when I see another person in a wheelchair I don’t stop them or ask them what happened. Nor someone with a facial disfigurement or limb missing.

Resist the urge if you can and just talk ‘normally’. I promise you, my small talk is as good as anybody’s.

As to what happened to me?

I got into a fight in a newspaper office...