Travellin' Blues.

I had to catch a bus the other day. I haven't had to catch the peasant wagon for years and it's not something I would recommend but my Dearly Beloved needed the car. I could have cycled to work but I was too lazy and I could have caught a cab but I was too tight to pay for it. The bus stop in the city centre is a short walk from where I work and it's a direct route almost to my front door so it seemed straight forward. My naivety of public transport had lulled me into a false sense of security and I'm sure you can tell where this is going.

I left work and wandered up to the bus stop via W H Smiths to discover I had missed my first bus by five minutes. They run every half an hour so I mooched round the shops for another twenty minutes before returning to the bus stop.
There is nowhere quite as bleak as a bus-stop on a cold, wet day and my fellow passengers looked dejected and miserable. We waited and then we waited some more. Buses to other destinations came and went with annoying frequency but our transport failed to show up. It finally arrived half an hour late.

 The disgruntled passengers and I boarded without a word of explanation or apology from the driver or the two employees in company jackets standing on the bus. I presume they were there to eject anyone who complained or cut up rough. Due to the delay the bus was packed and consequently had to stop at every request stop on route. I can drive home from work in under ten minutes, I can cycle it in twenty minutes and I can walk it in an hour. My bus journey took an hour and a half. That will teach me for being tight and lazy.

There are some strange people who take public transport. I once knew a girl who recounted a story about travelling home on a bus one day with a fellow sat behind her who made her uneasy. All the way home she felt an slight tugging the back of her cardigan. She finally got off the bus much to her relief and hurried home to find the back of her cardigan had been slit open with a knife.

Dearly Beloved and I often catch buses when we go on holiday as a way of visiting the larger towns and travelling the country side. The buses abroad are much like the buses here except the weather and the view from the windows are much nicer. We once visited a bus garage in a busy town in Crete where they could have taught our local bus company a thing or two. None of the buses seemed to be marked with numbers or destination so we had to play ' guess the bus'. If you got it wrong the staff shouted at you and wildly gesticulated in no particular direction. I am pleased to say they seemed to treat the locals with the same level of contempt.

My middle son who catches buses regularly says no-shows and late arrivals are a daily occurrence. I'm surprised the company can treat people with such contempt and get away with it but that's what happens when you have a monopoly. At least I don't have to rely on public transport unlike many people. It's no wonder people at bus stops look so dismal.