Bus Characters

At home I wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus. In New Zealand, public transport scares me (and quite rightly so). The only time in my life when I was routinely subjected to public transport was during my University years. There were points during this three year stint where I would feel optimistic enough to catch the train… going into town was fine, but coming home, I would regularly end up at Waitakere Station and have to catch the train back in to Henderson. My major concerns with public transport in New Zealand, apart from falling asleep and missing my stop, were the time it actually takes to get anywhere (yes, it is faster driving) and the cost (yes, it is cheaper driving – especially with the little March!).

Here in Cambridge however, things are a different story. Catching a bus is like going to the theatre for the evening (without the fancy dress)… there are so many characters that catch your interest… there is no possible way to stay asleep. The other benefits are that you can buy a weekly pass and get unlimited travel for £9.50 and since the alternative is walking, bus transportation is obviously much quicker.

I have only caught the bus 5 or 6 times so far… but I am already sold! I will not only liken it to a night at the theatre, but go as far as to say that it has it all… drama, romance, comedy, a little mystery even… who needs to pay a TV licensing fee when you have the bus!?

On our route (the Magical Number 3, according to our friend Pete) each time we have caught the bus a story has unfolded in front of us… the day after the folk festival in the park next to our house ended, a Peter Jackson look-alike and his hobbit-y looking friends got on the bus… as it happened, they were planning their next trip together (did it involve a ring, I’m not sure… but it did involve a flight to Majorca!)

Two days ago I witnessed a bus romance… sweet is not quite the word… it seems that the just-out-of-school bus driver had picked up a fan along the way, and she stood quite contentedly at his side for the entire bus trip… whispering sweet-nothings in his ear and giving evil glances to any female who dared get on or off the bus. I, on the other hand, sat white-knuckled, gripping the seat in front of me… could he really concentrate on the road and the safety of the 30 passengers who had their life in his hands with her fawning all over him?

There were two old men sitting behind me the other day, and I think they may have been planning a bank heist, I wanted in, but didn’t want to give away my eavesdropping!… (ok… over-active imagination there!) …not to mention those to kiwi girls who took up half the bus the other day with duvets and pillows and bedside lamps – have they not heard of a taxi!?!...