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Dr Darwish Diagnoses Public Transport

By Muhammad Darwish ⋅ May 14, 2008 ⋅  Print this post ⋅ Post a comment ⋅ Share on Facebook

Just in case you weren’t aware. Petrol is, well, how can I put it? Ridiculously expensive, is perhaps too nice a term to use, but I’m sure you get the idea. At the time of writing the cheapest I found is £1.10 a litre, and that’s in Wales! Goodness knows how much it costs in England. Filling up my puny 1.2 litre Clio the other day set me back over £40!

I care about the environment, I really do. I walk when driving would be quicker, I recycle, and I’m involved with YOMAC, I turn off unnecessary lights, the usual really. So, being the eco-friendly chap that I am. I decided that for a week I would rely on nothing but public transport to get me around. Well public transport and my feet.

I was really excited. No petrol prices to worry about, no stress of traffic, helping to limit the effects of climate change. And as I’m the type of person who thinks the London commute is glamorous, I couldn’t see a downside. I was going to be one lean, green and mean, climate-change fighting machine!

Anyway, as the week progressed, I slowly realised exactly why so many choose the car over the dreaded bus.

Monday morning would have been fine apart from one thing…rowing. And as a rower I am bound by some type of hideous law which means I have to get up at stupid o’clock in the morning, just to attend training.

It was all going to be fine though. I had been on the internet, and without much of a struggle, I found a suitable bus route.

Come Monday morning I woke up at the crack of dawn, donned my favourite sports shoes and made my way to…the bus stop! Luckily for me I realised I was running out of cash the night before, so a trip to the hole in the wall meant I was armed with a crisp £10 note. I waited for the number 42 to Singleton hospital at 7.10 in the morning and sure enough it arrived. And on time! So far all was going well, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.

Okay, so in hindsight, trying to pay for a bus fair which costs just a few pounds with a £10 note on a very early Monday morning probably wasn’t the best thing to do. But laughing in my face and telling me to give him the correct change or to ‘get off’ wasn’t very nice either. Fortunately, there was a kind old lady who did have change.

I started making my way down this rather oddly shaped vessel (which smelled of stale urine) and, after being thrown around like a ball in a pinball machine, I found a seat. I don’t know how the poor lady behind me managed; she did have incredible balance though.

Being very early in the morning it was cold, but on the bright side the roads were empty. Most, I’m sure, would be content with the lack of traffic on the road. For my bus driver, he seemed to take it as an opportunity to drive like a boy racer for the whole journey. This meant a journey which was scheduled to take about half an hour, took 20 minutes instead. It was to my benefit ultimately because it meant I wasn’t going to be late for rowing, and therefore no chastisement from the group of rather intimidating, large and ugly boys who already have under-arm hair.

On the downside I was left feeling sea-sick, which meant I needed to take my time to recover before I could row, consequently I got chastised anyway. I’ve never had such an action packed morning.

Tuesday was a lot better. I had learnt from my mistake with the £10 note, and I was now ready with my £3.00 in exact change. Being the antagonist that I am, I decided that paying with copper coins was a suitable way to get my revenge. Unfortunately, the bus driver didn’t care, so the wind was taken out of my sail somewhat.

I didn’t have lectures until 11 that day, but if I had taken the 10.30 bus I wouldn’t have got in until 11.30. Meaning I had to take the 9.30 bus instead and arrive half an hour early.

Why on Earth do people take pleasure in playing the most hideous music on full blast out of a tin-can of a speaker confounds me. More annoyingly they were loud, which meant that even over my ipod I could still hear the surplus of abuse being shouted from one end of the bus to the other.

The rest of the week continued in much the same way, and during this time I made a series of key observations:

• There is always…ALWAYS…a token drunk on every bus you go on (apart from the bus which left at stupid o’clock in the morning)
• There are always some people seeking to make your life miserable by shouting abuse and emitting strange noises from tin-can mobile phone speakers on every bus within the city-centre (apart from the bus which left at stupid o’clock in the morning)
• Every bus which I took either got me to my destination 30 minutes late, or an hour early for my lectures (apart from the bus which left at stupid o’clock in the morning)
• The only reason the bus which leaves at stupid o’clock in the morning gets to your destination ahead of schedule, is because the bus driver is driving like a boy racer

I do have some advice however for people who want to travel by bus:

• Always bring the correct change
• Don’t eat within an hour of going on the bus, because you WILL be sick.
• Always arrive on time for the bus, because bus drivers seem to take great pleasure in driving away from you whilst you’re running towards them.
• Make sure your ipod can be turned up to extra-extra loud.
• Try all other means possible before having to resort to the bus

So after my action-packed and fun filled week, I discovered why we as a nation have far too many cars on the road. It’s because busses are overpriced, full of pretty obnoxious behaviour, and never get to your destination at a decent time. There is always chewing-gum on every seat, you get scowled at by the bus driver if you don’t bring the right change, and you are more than likely to get sick on this wonderful journey.

What can we do about it? Well unless there’s a massive overhaul of the bus service in Britain, then things are going to have to get much worse before people are tempted to abandon the car.