'Nice day today, isn't it?'

Polish people in Britain are being told the weather is a good subject with which to strike up a conversation with a stranger. But is it? The Magazine's Tom Geoghegan puts the theory to the test.
Digesting what I'd just said to her, the old woman on the 220 bus to Putney, west London, scrutinises me intently.
If she turns away to look out the window now, that would spell humiliation.
Maybe "It's rather chilly out there," wasn't the right thing to say, and perhaps rubbing my hands together was a touch contrived. The one-second pause that follows feels like 10.
"Yes, it's meant to warm up later," she says at last, with a half-smile. Filled with relief, I respond with something about our forgotten summer and the verbal floodgates are open.
She neatly steers our chat from weather to traffic jams and from there to Ken Livingstone and candy floss, all in the five minutes before she alights.
Speaking to a stranger is a bit of a minefield, but it makes you feel good afterwards, especially in London where spontaneous conversations are pretty unfamiliar territory.
Not so in Devon, where a new welcome pack for Polish migrant workers advises them that a good way to start a conversation is to remark on the weather. And this unscientific survey in the capital suggests the advice is well-judged.
Anonymity
Out of 10 unsuspecting strangers, only one refuses to answer - a glance and a look away warn me off.
Six were positively bright and chatty, one was too immersed in his iPod to hear me, another couldn't understand me and one gave a courteous response but then returned to reading his newspaper.
Unlike a greeting that follows an introduction, a conversation between strangers is shrouded in anonymity and uncertainty. Standing at a bus stop or in a queue, the possibilities are endless. Begin with the weather and who knows where it will lead?
In one hour of approaching strangers, I learnt what the best time of year is to visit Marrakesh (October to March), that the local library is relocating (just down the road), what market traders make of the soon-to-be opened shopping centre nearby (upbeat and bullish) and what everyone thinks about the weather (even the sun has them moaning).
Older women are more talkative than younger men, who were glued to mobile phones and personal music players. And opportunities to chat abound - even when waiting to cross a road there's time for a quick exchange.
The weather is a good ice-breaker because in the UK it's so unpredictable and it's common to all of us, says Ros Taylor, who works with companies to encourage people to talk to each other. If you're stuck, look around you - if you're in a queue then talk about queues.
"We often imagine that conversations have to be clever and witty and shattering in their perceptiveness but all we want to do is bond and have a chat and make the time pass more quickly."
Chatting in this way makes life more pleasant, she says, and it's more common outside the South East.
"Go to the North of England and Scotland and people are ready to talk to anything that moves or breathes. They always have something in their heads that they say as soon as anyone comes into view."
But electronic communication is eroding our ability to connect personally, she says, and this could be contributing to increased feelings of isolation and even depression.
Another factor is that increased mobility means communities are less settled than they used to be, says Don Gabor, author of How to Start a Conversation and Make Friends.
"In a neighbourhood, when you interact on a regular basis it serves as a step-off point for the next conversation, so if you see someone every day, at the chip shop or in the park, and you start a conversation it can grow beyond the weather."
But a conversation with a stranger helps both parties - a smile at a cashier could be the first connection she has enjoyed that day.
Use sights, smells and sounds as verbal cues, he says. But there are simple ground rules - don't complain, avoid politics and religion, and keep strong opinions to yourself.