Five weeks ago I officially became a Strode College student, but as well as that I also officially became a bus user. Whilst being a college student has been fun, interesting and overall enjoyable the same cannot be said for the bus!
I was well aware that the journey wouldn’t be a pleasant one; waking up at 6am for a one hour bus journey doesn’t sound too appealing as it is, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so bad.
Whilst I wasn’t expecting a high-tech, state of the art limousine to take me to college, I couldn’t help but feel slightly underwhelmed by the rickety, old skip on wheels that squeakily rolled up to my stop.
Whilst the bus looked like it was from the 1970’s, the driver looked like he was from the 1920’s! Only a few years from retirement and seemingly unable to comprehend English pounds, it took him at least five minutes to count my money and hand me my ticket.
Oh yeah, that’s right; I have to pay. Despite having already paid for a bus pass that hadn’t arrived. Thanks, Bus Company!
Six well earnt (well, kind of) pounds were dished out by me in order to pay for a ticket, but not for a seat. Sadly for me half of my hometown of Yeovil had also decided to board this particular bus, meaning I was forced to stand up. For a teenager like me who hadn’t woken up this early in years, this was a cruel and unusual punishment!
Not only had half of Yeovil deprived me of a seat, they were starting to deprive me of my sanity; the over-the-top chit-chat from screechy girls and immature boys who had clearly had too much sugar on their breakfast cereal was driving me mad.
So, the journey to college wasn’t a great start but surely the way back home would be better, right? Well…
It seemed as if the bus was never going to come. Around 15 minutes late and nowhere in sight, we were starting to lose count of how many times someone said “What time is the bus actually meant to get here?” or “Is it actually going to come?”
When it did come there was a frantic rush in order to get a seat, a gigantic crowd all rushing to get to the front. And I was at the back. Oh goody.
As it turns out by some sort of miracle there was a seat free for me. It sat there so invitingly, looking more like a throne than a seat. I took my seat and smiled smugly as we left the college car park.
And then at the next stop a herd of old people got on. They looked around at the over-crowded bus and I realised that I was going to have to give up my seat. I didn’t have any problems with doing so and I understand that they need it, but nevertheless it was frustrating that all my hard work and effort were to be thrown away and I was to be deprived of a seat yet again.
But all was not lost, and I hatched a plan which I can only describe as absolute genius. The luggage area was empty, meaning I had a seat… of sorts. Using my bag as a make-do scatter cushion and muffling the annoying chit-chat with my ipod headphones I was finally able to relax.
That’s when the man with the suitcase got on.
Although my first day was fairly bad by my standards, it doesn’t measure up to some of the other horror stories I’ve heard from friends, with somebody projectile vomiting and a window falling off being two of the highlights.
As the term goes on hopefully I’ll see an upturn in fortunes regarding the buses, however so far it doesn’t seem like they can get much worse!