Waiting for The Bus
Very few people in my street had a car when I was little in the mid-sixties. In fact, only one person had one – a Morris Minor. So most families took buses everywhere.
I loved to catch the bus. We’d climb up the big step and I’d run to find a seat. One of my favourite things about these giant vehicles was the bus conductor. This could be a man or a woman. They wore a uniform and most excitingly of all had a very intriguing machine bound to their waists by two straps running across each shoulder. Conductors could keep their footing regardless of how the bus lurched and juddered. They rode the aisle like surfers and skipped up and down the steep spiral stairs like mountain goats.
Aged four or five, I’d watch enthralled as the conductor would punch in the numbers to denote our fare. Then they would wind the handle vigorously as a freshly printed ticket emerged.
Another character was the inspector who wore a smarter uniform and a peaked cap. It was his job to check tickets. Woe betide anyone who had absent-mindedly shredded their ticket or even chewed it!
Youngsters under 14 only paid half price. Many older teenagers claimed to be ‘children’ and would rehearse false birth dates ready for if they were challenged.
I loved the smell of the diesel fumes that poured out of the exhaust and the different sounds of the engine. If we sat upstairs, leafy branches would sometimes scrape the roof.
Once, when I was about four, the bus I was on with my mum got stuck in thick snow. Everyone got off and the male passengers were handed shovels and began trying to dig it out. These efforts failed and we walked the rest of the way home.
When I was much older there was a bus that was not so welcoming. The pubs in town closed at 11pm. All the older teenagers on a night out had to run to catch the Last Bus which left the stop at about 11.05. The atmosphere on this bus was menacing and rowdy. The drunken lads would reach out to grab the girls as they tried to find a seat. There was bawdy singing and stomping of feet and often fights broke out. And there, traveling behind was the police escort, which was frequently needed.
Aside from the Last Bus, these double-deckers were a comforting, welcome part of life.
Aged 18, I worked a late shift as a veterinary nurse and would finish at ten at night. Standing alone at a freezing bus stop, I would shiver, feeling a little uneasy in the dark. Then out of the gloom came the bus, ablaze with lights, rumbling to a stop right in front of me. The automatic doors would open with a hiss and then I was inside. Cosy and safe – on my way home.
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Rain , Really enjoyed reading your blog about taking the bus. Where I live here in Baltimore County in N. Mays Chapel we do not have bus service up here as the bus service does stop at Padonia Rd. & Deerco Rd, which is east of where live off of Padonia Rd. and that is 1.9 miles and there are no sidewalks from Greespring Rd. down to Deerco Rd. & Padonia Rd. I still drive but when I don’t I will have to get a uber or a cab or ask my daughter to come and take me as I am not able to walk down Padonia Rd. where there are not sidewalks .
Hi @marie41-2 Yes, it’s the same where I live no. No buses, no pavements and no streetlights. You have to have a car out here. I was on a bus in another place 2 years ago that took people from a car park to a castle and it brought back happy memories.
In our road you couldn’t park unless you had an illuminated Parking Light (in the 1960s) otherwise you were breaking the law. So you had to find a little side street or purchase add on parking lamps which connected to the battery of the car. But seat belts were not compulsory. In fact I remember sitting on my Mum’s lap on the front passenger seat of a Morris 1100 before it became illegal. Front seat, not the rear seats. How things have changed.
I also remember the familiar smell of buses too, and many years later I found myself being a driver of said buses, after Conductors were abolished so all were One Man Bus by then. Still, it was a great job even in my day 😊
@dj Goodness! I don’t remember that parking light thing. I do recall taking my cycling proficiency test though and having lights for front and rear of my bike (white and red respectively) that had batteries about the size of a coffee mug. Ah yes, the smell of busses too, and the way they could lean really far over without toppling!
Ive no memories of buses from childhood. We lived very rural. My Dad had a motorbike and side car for us kids. My bother was sometimes allowed to ride pillion behind my Dad. Strangely although only 2 years younger I was never old enough.
Here is Tunisia we have Louages. 7 seater pick ups. You can flag down anywhere, run every 5 minutes or so. They go to the next town on a loop, where you can jump on another. 1 Dina about 25p.
@tjay The motorbike and sidecar sounds like great fun. Girls were often considered delicate so that’s probably why you never got to ride pillion. The Louages would be very handy.