I WAS on the bus, trying to play a variation of Scrabble on my phone, when a chap of early retirement age sat next to me. That was no problem, because the bus was full and that’s what happens.

I could feel the weight of his stare as I tried to make a word out of the letter H and six vowels, and he leaned over and said: “Are you playing that on the internet?”

I nodded, not really interested in conversation after a day at work. But he persisted, telling me about his own phone and the fact he only ever used it for phone calls, not browsing the internet or playing variations on Scrabble.

The bus thinned out as passengers got off, but My companion failed to observe public transport protocol, and didn’t move to an empty seat. In fact, he continued talking to me. I put my phone away, my vowels untouched, because it turned out what he was saying was quite interesting. He was on his way to a church meeting, where he was going to be thrashing out plans for his impending trip to India, where he would be helping to build an orphanage.

He explained that he had - in his own words - wasted his life, and spent his days working in jobs that he didn’t particularly find fulfilling, all the while of dreaming of doing something important and worthwhile.

But he never had the courage, he said. Until he retired, and found himself living alone, and decided that now was the time to do all those things he had dreamed of. He’d never been to India, never done anything like this before. It was scary and exciting all at the same time. But, he said, sometimes you have to do something that scares and excites you. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. Sometimes you have to decide to follow your dreams.

Eventually, he got off the bus. We shook hands and I wished him well in India. He reminded me about doing scary stuff and following your dreams.

I brooded on his words for some days, because I’d just had some news. News which I share with you now, in this form: This will be my last column for the Telegraph & Argus.

Yes, as of the close of the working day today, I’ll be off. Not to a new job, but instead taking a leap of faith into the unknown. Doing something scary and exciting all at the same time.

I don’t really believe in signs or omens, but it was almost as though my bus friend – who I’d never seen before, nor since – had been sent to tell me that everything was going to be all right.

I have no idea if it will – that’s the scary part. But I’ve a feeling it just might – which is the exciting bit.

So thank you for putting up with me and my weekly ramblings over the past 14 years. It’s been fun. Take care of yourselves, and be good to others. And never eat anything bigger than your head.