Driving a bus?

2009-04-07T21:31:00.002+01:00

Post number (er . . . lost count)

It has come to my attention that I'm dead which does make writing a bit of a problem, but not insurmountable as you can see.

The fast few months have been uneventful in the bus world that I call home, lots of moans and groans but not interesting reading, its easy to complain but hard to entertain.

I've not crashed the bus for ages (that's an instant curse now I bet), nor have I run anyone over (they tend to dodge out of the way now), no one's died in transit but there's still time.

Been spending a lot of my time on my new project, the history of Worthing pubs (yes I know, boring but the on site research is fun) and the current results can be found at www.worthingpubs.com, got a mention in the local Argus newspaper about it on page three with a very unflattering picture but at least they spelt my name right. When I got home that evening the local radio station wanted an interview which I did over the phone which was very strange to do, so Andy Warhol was right, fifteen minutes of fame.

There was one amusing story I heard today of a past incident, a driver was coming to the end of his round when a customer was getting off the bus remarked to the driver that there was a wheelchair on board, nothing unusual about that you might think, except there was no one in it, it would seem this driver had the power to heal the lame, hopefully we won't nail him to a cross at Easter!

2007-06-02T14:58:00.000+01:00

132) What the Dickens!

Driving in to Portsmouth the other morning I couldn’t help but notice a bus shelter marked with the words ‘Birthplace of Charles Dickens’ and I thought to my self, fancy being born in a bus shelter!

Sweet revenge.
I approached the bus stop and my heart did a little leap of joy, for there before me was . . . a taxi. (I would have rubbed my hands together with glee but the shop had sold out) now this stop always has a car parked just before it making it a difficult one to pull in to correctly but I managed to squeeze in with the front of the bus inches from the rear bumper of the taxi.

Passengers loaded I was ready to go when suddenly I notice before me a taxi, my goodness, how did that get there I said to myself leaning on the horn.

The driver stuck his head out of the window (I use the term ‘driver’ in an open context here) ‘Sorry mate, can’t move, I’ve broken down’ he said, ‘Oh dear I said, you’ll have to see me out whilst I reverse then’ I replied which he begrudgingly did. Did I mention it was pouring with rain?

Had a bit of a fright the other day down a country lane (no, don’t get excited, it wasn’t a flasher), I rounded a bend in my ‘Decker’ bus only to see an articulated lorry just about to come out of a side road, now the driver hadn’t approached the junction and slowed but was fully expecting to pull out without stopping, the only reason he did stop was the surprise of seeing a double Decker bearing down on him and the inability he had of steering with one hand whilst he eat a sandwich with the other, I am so pleased our buses are fitted with cameras.

My thanks to anon and Arriva driver on a new advertising campaign launched by a well known bus company, the ‘ad’ features a washing line with items of clothing pegged in place and each item carries a letter, these being M T W T F S S standing for each day of the week (it’s promoting a weekly bus ticket) unfortunately as the ‘ad’ is wrapped around the back end of the bus only W T F is on display on the arse end (technical term) and we all know W F T stands for Where’s The Fish or is it What The F . . . . . . .

On the verge
We have a form that is going around at the moment asking drivers to report if they have to drive over the curb or grass verges at any time and to give the reason why and if that reason is problem parking by residents cars then the council will look in to making some parking restrictions in those areas.

There is one area I know of where the grass verges are totally wreaked and the reason is, the residents themselves park on them and in one case it’s a large tow truck that leaves deep tyre tracks that look identical to those of a bus and we get the blame I think, but the real irony happened the other day when I saw a road maintenance lorry crew fixing a damaged curb whilst their own vehicle was, yes you’ve guessed it, parked with all four wheels on the grass verge opposite.

Interesting BBC report on increase of youth bus crime

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/6700567.stm

2007-07-12T19:25:00.001+01:00

140) Back end of a Brighton & Hove bus.

I'm on a week off at the moment and just getting to the stage where I'm getting bored and so I might post soon.

2008-01-20T22:27:00.001Z

162)

Went down to the beach this morning looking for a bit of drift-wood, guess what I found!

Pictures here (sorry, no buses)

2008-01-21T19:17:00.001Z

163) I've written some words.

Mr Leg-End is a pain in the bum!

I’ve lost count how many times I’ve stopped at an empty bus stop at night because this bloody poster is on display, do I like Will Smith or something – not exactly, it’s just that from a distance it looks like someone is waiting for a bus – so I pull in and there he is, all smug and laughing at me.

Down and outs in suburbia

We’ve all seen them, slumped in alleyways, propping up telephone boxes, lying forlornly in hedgerows across the country, desolate, unloved, needy, stripped of their past and no future to look forward to . . . no, I’m not talking of tramps and wino’s, I’m talking about discarded Christmas trees.

The Drunk

Couldn’t believe I actually got away with this one . . .
It was dark, I slide the bus up to the bus stop hoping the swaying punter standing there didn’t see me, to add to the illusion I whistled tunelessly trying to imitate an ice cream van. He lurched in my direction like a puppet with half the strings cut. He raised a leg up to climb the step – I lowered the step at the same speed he put his foot down hoping for an amusing incident and failed.

“Where would you like to go sir” I asked adding a slight Italian accent just in case the Ice Cream rouse was working and he asked for a ‘Mr whippy with chocolate chips’.

“I’d like to go home pleeeese” he answered with a smile

I paused momentarily . . . “Well here we are sir”

He turned on the spot and stepped off. . “Cheers mate” he said and wondered in a general ‘away’ direction. I closed the doors and joined the traffic, had it really been that easy, yes.

Magnetic qualities of bus stop poles.

The council owns the bus stops, they paint the big yellow box with the word BUS STOP in stretched lettering on the tarmac, they make it 40 foot on length to fit a bus in, with me so far . . . good, I shall continue. Where do they often stick the post – at the very beginning, where do people queue up, at the post, where’s the doors on a bus – at the other end, we call it the front.

There are a couple of places I know that have these cute little wooden huts for the bus using populace to gather in when the weathers being particularly British.

These little ‘love cottages’ (I was a teenager once!) are often set back from the road but in the ones I’m thinking of they’re actually amongst the trees, often on a curve in the road and of course – not a window in sight, insulated from the weather and passing traffic the only time they know a bus is around is when it passes – they run out and wave – I’ve seen them in the mirror, bless.

I’ve tried to think of ways to improve them so the driver knows that someone is in need of the services of a rapid transport system (alright – a bus), perhaps a light on the top of the bus stop sign that goes on when someone’s inside but that would upset the heavy petting teenage population at night, or perhaps a signal system like the railways use but some of our ‘simpler’ population would end up queuing on the railway itself, or you could of course move the hut a little closer and cut a window out – preferably on the side that the bus approaches from!

2008-01-23T01:33:00.001Z

164) Now is the winter of our discotheque (darn spell checker)

Readers of the Daily Mail on the 22^nd of January would have noticed an article entitled “How to get on a bus – the idiots guide to traveling from A to B” on page 35, it’s a parody of a guide published by stagecoach for those that have never used a bus before.

http://www.stagecoachbus.com/usingthebus.html

I’ve decided to add to it . . . .

First and foremost it is important to recognise a bus, unlike taxi’s they don’t have the word BUS written on the front, if you find yourself traveling and see the word TESCO upside-down then chances are your in a shopping trolley, try again.

If you see a queue of people – join it, there may be a bus at the end. Buses do NOT have blue flashing lights, if it has a red light on one side and a green light on the other then you’re on a ship. The best place to find a bus is amongst a crowd of elderly people holding special green cards, buses are attracted to these cards.

A bus makes a putshuuuush noise when it stops, so do lorries, if you have to raise your leg over waist height to get on and the drivers wearing a checked shirt it’s a lorry, say sorry and admire his Yorkie bar for a moment before departing.

Buses have an illuminated sign at the front, this is its destination, ‘Sorry – not in service’ is NOT a destination, it means the driver is very shy and finds it hard to mix with people.

When a bus pulls up, wait for it to stop before trying to get on otherwise you’ll get a nasty friction burn on your face. After a short period the doors will open.

The driver will be the person usually sitting at the front holding the steering wheel, if there is no steering wheel your on a train.

When you get on tell the driver where you want to go, just the name of the town or area is enough, saying things like “23 Lofthouse Road” will result in the driver pointing to a taxi. Bus drivers are highly trained but mind reading is a skill yet to be acquired so don’t forget to move your mouth when talking to him/her

There are two basic types of tickets, single or return, you can be married and still buy a single ticket. If you ask for a return ticket the driver will ask “where to”, do not answer – “back here of course” because it’s an old joke that’s wearing very thin.

There have been many advances in technology in the last few years and most buses are now fitted with seats (except school buses which have cages) make your way down the bus to allow other people to get on. If you find yourself back outside then you’ve gone too far.

After a while the doors will close and the bus start to move forward (most of the time) do not panic and try not to shout out “Oh my god, we’re all going to die” as it can unsettle the other passengers. You are permitted to shout “Weeeeeeeeee” if the bus goes down a hill. When you get to the area you want, or just want to get off to pick some flowers press the red button situated on the many metal posts holding the roof up, JUST ONCE. Do not try to climb out of the windows but wait until comes to a halt (this is when the scenery outside stops moving) the nice driver will open the doors for you, thank the driver and give him any gold coloured coins you may have for safe-keeping. Tea and biscuits are not served on a bus.

Many first time passengers find the excitement too much and forget to keep breathing and fall over, all bus drivers are trained in dragging limp bodies off a bus. Bus tickets can help as part of a calorie controlled diet but it does make it difficult should the inspector get on.

We look forward to driving to meeting you.

ADDITIONAL: The Daily Mail as well as Meridian TV have made light of the Stagecoach Guide to using a bus but you might be surprised at the number of 'newbies' that have no idea how the system works, there are people out there who don't even know how to boil an egg. I bet the presenter of the TV clip had to be instructed! TV clip here, it's filmed at my local depot in Worthing. (and I wasn't asked)

2008-02-26T00:26:00.003Z

167) A picture is worth a thousand words.

This is Lt Colonel Tex Pemberton, the West Sussex County Council Cabinet Member responsible for Transport & Highways standing in the right place at the wrong time.
(I’m not laughing, honest).

Sunday Bloody Sunday:

You’d think Sunday would be an easy shift, well I did for a while until I tried to squeeze passed the repentors cars stacked up outside the churches, Christians they may be, law abiders their not! Perhaps the church had a special offer on that Sunday, Two sins for the price of one.

A Bit of a Moan:

The evening ended well I though, Worthing was the end of the line and the end of my shift, as I drove in to South Street I discovered a car just pulling in to the bus stop outside KFC, I beeped my horn, they got out, looked at me and walked off in to KFC, I parked my bus across the front of it. It wasn’t so much that they were in the way, illegally parked or just pig ignorant but to add insult to injury they had entered a pedestrian only area, no cars permitted, now I needed an excuse to sit there for a few minutes and hope one of our super efficient wardens to appear . . . my excuse arrived.

The next stop would be the depot and so I used the time to gather my things together, shark repellent, spear gun, CS spray and had just finished mopping up the blood off the floor when a woman entered the bus, normally I would have just told her the bus had ended it’s journey but I decided to listen to her first, It turned out to be a general ticket enquiry which ended in a happy conclusion. As she exited I stepped of the bus to see if the car was still there, as I did some bloke stepped on, walked up the back of the bus and sat down.

‘Can I be of any assistance Sir’ I asked knowing full well I couldn’t, ‘Brighton’ came the reply, he hardly even looked in my direction, ‘Ah, could be problem there Sir’, suddenly I had his full attention. ‘This bus has finished for the night . . . ‘(slight pause) ‘this is it’s final destination’ and I wanted to add ‘It precedes no more’ in Monty Python this parrot is dead type of voice. ‘What’, came the reply, now did he mean Watt as in James Watt the inventor of the second condensing chamber on a steam engine or ‘What’ as in Oh bugger, I suspected the latter.

‘It is Sunday sir with a reduced service and we bus drivers like to get a head start on sinning for bulk redemption on a Sunday morning . . . . . Sir’, entered my mind but remained unspoken. ‘You might be able to catch a Brighton and Hove bus on the seafront in a couple of hours but I’m not 100% sure if they run on a Sunday’ I said in my special - I’m trying to be helpful but in a begrudging type of way – voice.

He got off and so did I only to find the blocked in car had gone, I missed my chance to glare at them.

2008-02-27T20:37:00.003Z

168) Just another day.

Youth gets on bus
‘Chichester’ in a monosyllabic tone says youth.
Nice driver issues ticket and asks for money
Youth then informs driver ‘child fare’
Nice driver cancels ticket, re-issues a child fare ticket
Youth then informs driver ‘return’
Nice driver cancels ticket and issues Chichester Child single.

Woman gets on bus, smiles at driver
Nice driver returns smile
Woman remains smiling at driver
Nice driver starts to feel he’s being visually mugged
Woman still smiling
Nice driver gives up and asks ‘would you like to travel somewhere’
Woman realises she has to communicate orally.

Elderly woman gets on bus, shows driver her pass and asks
‘Can I use this to travel to Bognor Regis’
Nice driver informs her that it would be better to use the bus as her
pass doesn’t seem to have any wheels.

Woman gets on bus with an American accent (it was in a box under her arm)
Nice driver says ‘lovely accent, where are you from’
Woman replies ‘America’
‘Oh, what part’ asks driver
‘All of me’ replies woman.

2008-03-08T22:42:00.003Z

169)

Holding a Policeman’s Helmet!!!

04.30: The day started like any other, the earth rotated round to face the sun, gravity remained in place thankfully and the elderly sat on the ends of their beds clutching their free passes waiting for nine o’clock.

Did I really have to get up at this time, oh yes, my bladder confirmed that it was important and I was on ‘early starts’. Slipping out of my Thomas the Tank Engine PJ’s and in to the bathroom, I started my morning exercise . . . up down, up down, up down, then the other eyelid.

Friday marks the end of the week for most but not for bus drivers, it’s just another day ending in ‘y’. The upside is that I would be Chichester before the rush hour started and on my way back when it was nearly over, by 9.30 I’d be back in Worthing for lunch/breakfast (now known as Lunchfast) and then repeat the same journey once more before clocking off at 14.33.

The second journey proved to be the high-light of the day for I was about to meet a punt and it was a good one, (Punt: the art of pushing a car out of a bus stop without physical contact)

The victim, or should I say ‘ill advised driver’ had parked in the middle of a busy bus stop disregarding the free space at each end. I drove in and lined up with the waiting passengers which placed me nose to nose with the naughty car, but what was this I see, a disabled badge, does this allow them to park in bus stops, no of course not, they get a little booklet telling them just where they can park and so they know better than most.

Passengers loaded I beeped my horn. The car only had one occupant, the passenger, the driver was not present (unless invisibility is a disability) however I suspected that it was the passenger that was disabled, she was of a rotund nature and had her own gravitational field.

Securing the bus (a brick on a length of string out of the window and a sign saying ‘closed’) I approached the car’ ‘is the driver around’ I asked instantly regretting the word ‘around’ as in spherical. She jerked her head backwards indicating the taxi office behind, off I trotted to make further enquiries for said driver but found no joy.

Back on the street I stood beside the car looking up and down the street, I was going to milk this for all of it’s worth. As luck would have it a police officer walked passed, completely oblivious of me, a badly placed car and a great big bus that had now been blocked in behind by yet another illegally parked car.

‘Officer’ I called out, I had ensured a reasonable distance had been made between me and the policeman so I had to say it out loud and even than I had to say it twice before he stopped and turned, I pointed to the car and the bus, he summed up the situation and approached the car, the passenger could offer no assistance as to the whereabouts of her spouse so he told her that he would move the car backwards to allow the bus to continue it’s journey which she permitted. One problem arose here for the nice policeman had a pointy helmet and the car had no sunroof to accommodate it and so he asked me to hold it for him (hence the title of this page).

Job done I reluctantly handed back his helmet (I noted that his head didn’t come to a point) and boarded the bus and apologised to the passenger for the ‘slight delay’ and added ‘we won’, they loved it, there’s nothing like a bit of street theatre to entertain.

The police officer informed me he would remain to speak to the driver, how I wished I could have stayed.

Note: next day, same bus stop, traffic warden on patrol.

2008-03-18T23:56:00.003Z

170) Wish you were here (oh no you don't)

Way way back in 1987 there was a film called 'Wish you were here' starring Emily Lloyd and Tom bell (as opposed to Tinker bell) and it was filmed in my home town of Worthing, and not only that, a fair chunk was in the bus depot (then Southdown Buses) and the Dome cinema next door. I had to buy it of course, not because I'm some sort of bus nut, I'm just plain nosey.

Here's a clip from a bus training film made on the outskirts of London, no connection with the above, it amuses me.
Here

2008-06-04T10:29:00.002+01:00

173) Image from Havant Bus station rest room.

Sometimes I get that warm feeling, like a burst colostomy bag.

As I sat basking in the early morning sunshine at Chichester Bus Station I reflected on my life and thought . . . can I start again please?

Did you mother ever say to you 'Make sure you've got clean underwear on just in case you get run over by a bus', or is that just me? I guess the idea is that whilst your laying there on in the resus room at the hospital with pipes out of your nose hooked up to a machine that just goes 'ping' every second, a nurse is cutting your trousers off with a pair of scissors and says 'Oh doctor, try your best, he's wearing clean underwear'. Somehow I know this won't be the case, not at that end.

Well summers on it's way (I read it on an umbrella somewhere), a time when parking cones and road works blossom in to life whilst the workmen ever wary of the nasty ultra violet rays emitting from the big yellow thing in the sky stay in the van eating their sandwiches, waiting for the passing shadow of a cloud to wonder out and crowd around the hole pointing at nothing in particular.

One thing that did make me smile happen about a week ago in Littlehampton, for some reason they decided to re-seat the manhole covers on the bridge, usual deal, single lane, temporary traffic lights and two very long lines of traffic and to pacify the road users, a yellow sign saying 'delays possible, sorry for any inconvenience' which you only discover when you eventually reach the road works, way to late to take avoiding action. Someone had placed a hand made sign in front with the words . . . 'the man in charge is Mick, his phone number is' . . .

2008-06-08T23:44:00.001+01:00

174 ) No title (which is a title anyway, so that's an oxymoron then?)

I’m not one to speak ill of customers (my fingers were crossed when I wrote that) but today took the proverbial biscuit. Mum, dad and son (I’m assuming a great deal here) boarded in Bognor and I took one look at them and the sound of Duelling banjo’s filled the air, if you’ve not seen the film ‘deliverance’ then ‘squeal like a pig’ will mean nothing to you, because ‘Incest is a game the whole family can play’. As drivers we meet a lot of people who have problems be they physical or mental and we rarely bat an eyelid but never had I meet a family who were the spitting image of each other, were sooo loud and clapped every time the bus went round a corner and as for the other passengers, to a man they spent the entire journey looking out of the windows in complete silence.

Embarrassing incident: A while ago I had to run light to my start point and as is normal practice the sign on the front said ‘Out Of Service’ (only because I lost my sign that said ‘Leper bus’). Now of course, trundling down the road people just see a bus, they want a bus, they don’t care that one’s not due or that no lights are on inside, they will stick out their hands, walking sticks or false limbs to catch my attention come what may, and when we drive right past they curse and complain, I’m often tempted to stop and explain but I know they will jump on or cling to the side of the bus so on this one occasion I slowed down as I passed and pointed upwards at the sign saying Out Of Service when it occurred to me that it would look very much like I was ‘giving them the finger’ as our American cousins might say, from now on I shall just sail past staring fixedly at the road ahead (which would make a change).

2008-06-15T00:12:00.001+01:00

175) Brain: Manual not included.

It’s been an interesting week (at last). Had a bit of a chat with a construction worker today in Littlehampton, he had managed to park his van just off a mini roundabout where he had been working and was loading up his ‘men at work’ sign when I came around the corner in my bus, problem was, I couldn’t get between him and the traffic island without knocking down the Keep Left bollard, he took one look at me and said ‘You could get a bus thought there mate’ whereas I replied ‘No I can’t’, ‘Yes you can, just keep it straight, it’s simple’ he answered back, Now I certainly wouldn’t presume to doubt his judgement when it came to digging holes in the road but it was a little annoying that he felt he knew better than I the capabilities of driving a bus. I refused to move unless he was prepared to take full responsibility for the consequences. He declined this offer, loaded up his hire van and moved it forward; parking it directly on the zigzags of a pedestrian crossing, some expert then, the onlookers enjoyed it.

Thank you, Cheers mate, thanks driver are all things I am accustomed to but ‘thanks bloke’ is a new one to me.

The other day I was as happy as Larry (whatever the hell that’s meant to mean), there was noting left to ruin my day, until the last run back home. I boarded the passengers as normal (I’d left my silly hat at home) all were eager to get home, each had the right money (Bulls**t alert) and smiling (hitting the fan now) and we all sang a rousing chorus of Rule Britannia before we set off.

I had got no further than quarter of a mile before the water alarm went off. I soon discovered that removing the bulb from the dashboard didn’t stop the alarm, it was still shrieking (hmmm, reminds me of my honeymoon) and I had to turn back to the bus station for a top up, and put some water in the bus too. A chap from head office was also travelling on the bus but he shall remain nameless (Hi Dave) and he reminded me to take caution when removing the water cap, it being pressurised due to the boiling steam inside, at arms length with a wad of paper between my hand and the filler cap I slowly unscrewed it . . . . Nothing, not a hiss or hint of steam, we looked at each other and raised eyebrows in unison, (which is a small town just north of London in case you were wondering) Eyebrows still raised Roger Moore style. I poured in some of companies finest water (as passed by the management), it took lest than a litre to fill to the brim, our collective eyebrows were now on top of our heads, time for an expert opinion, not having one at hand we called for a mechanic.

I followed him around to the back of the bus, I had to, he was holding my hand, he opened up a side panel and uttered ‘hmmm’, nothing wrong there’ and closed it again, I then mentioned that it was actually the other bus behind us. He gave me a look (I still have it) and proceeded to prod about, ‘how far you going’ he asked, ‘Worthing’ I replied, ‘Oh . . . should be alright, run it back to worthing’, what I think he meant was that once it was past halfway it was someone else problem. By this time we had transferred the passenger to another bus that had come in and thankfully going the same way (possibly). We climbed back on board and tentatively set off homeward bound (no relation to Simon and Garfunkel intended).

I’d like to say the trip was uneventful, in fact I will. The trip was uneventful (there, I’ve said it), the bus behaved, I dropped of the chappie from head office (bye Dave) and carried on regardless until I got to an area known as Roundstone, from here it’s a short trip to the village of Ferring long the A259 a nice bit of duel carriageway but for one thing, they had closed the eastbound lanes for resurfacing . . . . bugger, I now had to travel north through the countryside many miles out of my way with a bus that could breakdown at any moment, and I though it would choose the time when I was greatest distance away to cause the most embarrassment, and just to confound it all, nothing happened.

2008-06-29T23:08:00.001+01:00

176 ) I soon realised today would be a difficult one.

‘Thank you for waiting’ said the elderly woman’ who had just run across the road in front of the bus as it pulled out, her arms rotating like a demonic windmills, ‘Well it was either that or run you over’ I relied in my best having-a-joke-with-a-customer voice.

‘Where would you like to go’ I asked, ‘Oh anywhere’ came the reply, Oh bugger thought I, one of those. ‘Where’s you last stop driver’ she enquired? ‘Southsea’ I answered, ‘Then Southsea will do’ she finished.

She moved deeper in to the bus whilst rummaging through her handbag. This is a common ploy used my some older people in the hope the driver will give up waiting and start the journey eventually forgetting about them as time passes. I wasn’t in the mood this morning because I knew there was entertainment value here for the rest of my customers.

‘I’m afraid I can’t move off until I issue a ticket ma’am’ I called down the bus; she was at least a third of the way down the bus heading for a seat. She returned and handed over a plastic card to me. ‘I’m sorry’ I said, ‘this is a library card’ she took it back and produced another card, an AA car breakdown service card. I shuddered to think that she might just possibly own a car. ‘Sorry, this card is not the one’. Oh, I shall have to sit down and look for it’ she answered.

‘I won’t be able to move until I have some form of payment’ I told her ‘I’m almost 10 minutes late already, perhaps you would like to sit down on the bench in the bus stop and look for it, another bus will be here in a few minutes’ I tried as a last hope option whilst thinking I should have run her over in the beginning.

She returned and offered another card . . yep, you guessed it, a credit card. By now the next bus was rounding the corner. ‘The next bus has turned up ma’am, ‘I shall have to ask you to leave if you don’t have means of payment’, yes, cruel I know but I can’t carry anyone without a ticket, not worth risking my job for one little old lady.

‘Will this do driver’ she said offering up a five pound note? ‘Yes that would be perfect’ I replied and issued a ticket with the though in the back of my mind that she knew exactly what she was doing.

She got off in Bognor Regis, not even halfway; I knew Bognor was of some use after all.

It turned out that later that day I was to ask another customer to leave the bus. More on that later.

2008-07-14T21:52:00.000+01:00

177 Just another day

The vermilion splash of blood on a freshly formed elder leaf, the soft carpet of rabbit fur ground in to the black tarmac and the shades of grey on a pigeons wing waving in the breeze strangely absent from the rest of the body, the morning dew glistening from a dead badgers eye hanging from a twig on the road side, all these wonders of nature only open to the early shift drivers. . . .

(excerpt from Jimmy latest book: Jimmy and the Windmill of Doom. Published by Ginster Pie and Sausage Company, available as a hard back with wipe clean cover, coffee table version available soon, just as soon as we find some legs to fit it).

The bus stops halfway up a one way street, a fire engine blocks the way, ‘what’s that driver’ asks a woman passenger, ‘it’s a fire engine’ replies the driver, ‘What’s it doing there?’ says the woman, ‘Attending a fire’ replies the driver, ‘why have we stopped?’ enquires the same woman’, ‘there’s a fire engine in the way’ ends the driver in total disbelief. None of this happened to me thankfully but to another driver, I am given to understand that they’ve not found her body yet!

Foreign students, you either love ‘em or hate ‘em, me, I’ll reserve my opinion for the moment. When it’s a single student then there’s not really a problem but they tend to herd together like cattle and rush the bus the moment the door opens snapping the legs of the elderly as they try to disembark. I now stop short of the bus stop to give the more fragile a head start to leave the bus and perhaps the opportunity to scrape the shins of the rushing students with their shopping trolleys. What does bug me is that whilst they are here they are under strict instructions to only speak English but this seems to have got lost in translation I think.

A few days ago I pulled in to Littlehampton a few minutes early; a small crowd were waiting for me, I frisk them as they board the bus looking for knives, alcohol rub and illicit toffee making machinery when one gentleman decides to vent his spleen and tells all within hearing distance what a poor service the bus company was giving, I raised my eyebrow (there’s a small lever in my pocket)’ Is there a problem sir?’ I asked as I confiscated a knuckle duster off an octogenarian. Yes, we’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes and three buses stopped, put ‘OUT OF SERVICE’ up and drove off’ he answered. ‘Ah, those would be ones that have finished their duties and were going back to the depot to be fuelled and cleaned sir’ replied I. ‘yes of course, you would say that wouldn’t you’ he answered back in a disbelieving voice. ‘It’s quite true sir, it’s now the reduced evening service sir, those buses will be back on the road at five o’clock tomorrow morning. ‘Well why can’t they carry passengers back, it’s on the way, it’s a total shambles’, ‘unfortunately once a service is finished they are no longer insured to carry passengers’, yer, sure’ came his reply.

What was annoying is that in those fifteen minutes he was waiting, no buses were due or time-tabled to arrive to carry passengers, the bus prior to me was on time, I was on time (in fact early) the service was running as printed, still, it’s not as if he were paying for the service was he, he had a free pass. (body still undiscovered at time of writing)

2008-12-02T11:38:00.002Z

183) If you missed it . . .

Top Gear did a Bus Race, check out BBC Iplayer (bbc 2 section) for full programme or you tube link here for the bus section.

2008-12-01T12:34:00.002Z

182) The picture I said I wouldn't publish (I Lied)

I’ve been inspired to write some more and to dismiss any rumours of my death. It was August since my last confession and I’ve been a good boy since then . . . (stop laughing)

So, what’s new? I’ve been invited to write for the in-house news letter, there has been an offer by one of the controllers to do a centre page spread but this would require a fold out section and extra staples so that’s on hold, perhaps a Christmas Advent calendar would be more suitable then at least you don’t have to open all of the boxes.

We did a bus pull (ok, I didn’t, I get out of breath taking my hands out of my pocket) along Worthing sea front in aid of charity (ahh) there’s even a video clip somewhere (er . . here)

and you know what, people still tried to get on. It proved so successful the bus company has sold off the tow truck.

Chichester has a new ruling for bus drivers reversing out of the bays, we have to beep the horns, strangely the public have a habit of walking across the forecourt behind revering buses, this gives rise at busy periods of a cacophony of tuneless honking except on one occasion were everyone joined in and did a wonderful rendition of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto number 5, second movement (he had a gippy tummy that day), it brought tears to my eyes but I was peeling an onion at the time.

The story behind the picture. Chichester has branded the number 60 service with the swinging sixty’s imagery. Its named after the route number, not the average age of the customers (apparently).

Signing off for now, the warden wants the crayon back now.

2008-11-09T13:52:00.000Z

Bus pull pictures here

2008-08-28T22:54:00.002+01:00

180)

The Other Customer
So, what happened to the story about the other "customer?"
(Comments 176)

The three old dears shuffled on to the bus (by ‘dears’ I mean elderly people, not as in venison) ‘Three to Portsmouth’ said the elected spokesperson and held out her pass. Now it’s easy enough to press the enter button three times (just an hours training) but I’m much wiser now and just press it once, the elected spokesperson gives me a strange look (she had it in her hand ready), I looked over her shoulder and she clicked on, ‘Oh, he wants to see your passes girls’ she said and low the passes were pre offered. ‘I’m sorry, that’s an old pass, for I can not accept it any more’ say I. ‘Well the other driver accepted it’ replied the elected spokesperson’, ‘Tell me another one’ replied I (or rather wished I had) but instead just paused. It was stand off time; I got out a jigsaw puzzle. ‘How much is it’ the elected spokesperson eventually asked, ‘£3.70’ I said quick as a flash (as in a flash of light, not a dirty old man standing in an alley way) ‘Oh, it was only £3.50’ coming here’ she said . . . . ahhhhhh gotcha! If the other driver had accepted her free pass how could she have been charged? I remained silent (but my alto ego was running up and down the bus naked, try not to picture that . . please).

And there’s more . .

I pulled in to the main bus stop in the middle of Worthing, the crowd welcomed me in the usual fashion, waving, and shouting, throwing rotten fruit etc. In the end I had to open the doors and they heaved on totally ignoring my hand written sign saying Anthrax quarantine unit. As I dealt with people on an individual basis I noticed three children being ushered on behind the paying passengers and noted the two women/mothers doing the ushering. After about a minute these mothers boarded the bus at the back of the queue. ‘Two to Portslade please’ she asked, I rung up the fares and added ‘Plus three children was it?’, there was a pause (similar to the one I the story above except this one was yellow) . . . . ‘yes’ came the eventual reply, I completed the tickets and told her the price ‘What, I’m not paying that, we’ll get a taxi, come on children, off the bus’. This did mean I had to cancel a string of tickets but it was worth every one. The strange thing was, round the corner I was due to change drivers and have a break and so I wondered back in to town to search the rubbish bins for food when I noticed the very same mothers back in the queue for the next bus, If I had had the time I would have just stood in the bus stop in clear view and smiled.

2008-08-22T11:14:00.003+01:00

178) I'm a name, not a number

Yes, we have badges with our names on now and I always though my name was ‘Oi you’, you live and learn. I have contemplated changing mine, the options being: Darling, The Artist Formally Known As Prince (to long) Mr H Shipman, Xyzyz (A Chinese national hero or Polish Politician - probably) or ‘Yes I’m late – don’t talk to me’

OK, it’s been a while I admit, it just that nothing exciting has happened for ages or am I tempting fate I wonder.

Now there was that incident the other day, lady got off the bus (I did stop, I’m considerate like that) and she wheeled her shopping trolley off the platform to the pavement below, I guess she had a lot of shopping in it as the rim of one of the wheels parted company from the hub, I saw it happen . . . she didn’t and waved me goodbye, I drove off with a smile (and the bus) wondering how she was going to get home on one wheel?

‘You’ve got a trainee with you this morning’ I was informed the other morning by Control . . . they smiled, I smiled back (but mine wasn’t real). Now we all have to start somewhere, I remembered those early days too well. ‘Can he drive’ I asked, this may sound a little strange but it has been known for the odd trainee to have no sense of direction and spend chunks of the day reversing a bus out of people’s driveways as in . . Turn right here . . . no, I meant where that road is not immediately in to someone’s garden . . . bless.

My concerns were unfounded however, he was keen, confident and a lot bigger than me.
I spent the first couple of rounds riding on the platform which is like standing on the deck of a small boat wearing roller skates pretending your in full control of your legs knowing the passengers behind are watching and thinking ‘why are there two drivers, perhaps one’s good at turning left and the other at turning right’. These first trips were uneventful. By trip three I was sitting behind him (not on the same seat I should add) out of sight, it takes a bit of the pressure off him, I did shout out ‘MY GOD WE’RE GOING TO CRASH’ a couple of times but he was unfazed. Trip four found me halfway down the bus enjoying the ride, listening to the old ladies gossip which made me realise why I like it up front, at one point Paul Gadd tried to get on but he told him he wasn’t welcome here

2008-08-28T21:53:00.001+01:00

TIP of the week:

Don't waste money buying expensive binoculars.
Simply stand closer to the object you wish to view.

2008-05-24T14:43:00.000+01:00

172)

I make no excuses, little has happened in the bus world that I haven’t already mentioned in the past and I’ve enjoyed the rest if I’m honest but perhaps it’s time to dust off the keyboard and knock out a few ‘a day in the life of a bus driver’ stuff.

The seaside town of Bognor Regis has always been the butt of jokes along with Littlehampton (insert sound effects of schoolboy giggles) but I have started a personal vendetta to remove Bognor from the map completely (just a large car park would be nice), Locals to the town may have read of an incident recently involving a bus, the local bowls club and a large brick pillar. To add insult to injury, Worthing will now be hosting the famous Birdman competition because we’ve got a bigger one, Pier that is, at least the end didn’t fall off ours!

Back to Bognor. There is a large section of the town that has a Bus Only road right in the middle, leading in to it is a narrow road with two large signs saying ‘Buses and cycles only’. Imagine my delight as I was just about to set off when I saw this car staring down this very road, I held back just enough for the car to pass the half way point, then I set off from the other end coming face to face with the errant car driver, my how I smiled down at him, my how embarrassed he looked and what a long distance he had to reverse.

Free bus passes go national. If you have a bus pass you are now no longer restricted to your home county, you can go ANYWHERE (except Scotland and Wales but who’d want to go there anyway) but there are some drawbacks and Worthing is one of them. Most places in the UK allow travel from 9am, not Worthing, oh no, it’s 9.30 and lump it matey, now here’s the twist, Worthing borders the village of Ferring which is a different time zone (in oh so many ways) and anyone waiting for the bus at 9am can get on, now those living on the ‘wrong side’ have cottoned on to this and of course walk that small distance to cross the border into Ferring, now here’s the rub as they used to say . . . .

There is a difference and it’s written on the passes so we still have to refuse travel to those that have ‘migrated’ because I’m afraid to reveal, many of the drivers can now read and know the difference. We do get a triad of curses and insults and no matter how much we tell the potential passenger that’s it’s the council that decides (you voted for them remember) and not the bus company, please don’t pick on me, I’m just doing my job.

‘I thought this was an every 10 minute service’ said the woman boarding the bus, ‘Yes’ replied I, ‘Well I’ve been waiting for half an hour now’ she retorts, ‘I’m sorry, there has been a bit of a delay due to the road works on the seafront’, She didn’t reply but offered up one of those looks that only women can, one of pure disbelief. Three stops later we join the end of the traffic jam at said road works. 43 minutes later we pass the obstruction (normally a 3 minute journey) and she gets off and I offer up my usual .thank you, have a lovely day’, strangely she didn’t reply.

Whilst on the subject of road works (very popular with drivers at the moment) why oh why do they open up a hole and then leave it for days, no workmen, no vans, nothing. And another thing, they put up the cones and barriers then pile in to the van and sit there having lunch! And just how many times have we seen one guy working and 4 guys watching . . . and another thing I’ve noticed . . . have you seen just how many vehicles are towing a trailer of some kind that has no number plate, or a hand written one or one that’s completely different from the vehicle towing it and often no working lights and in most cases the towing vehicle has the words ‘Highway Maintenance’ in large letters on the back, yep, it’s those guys who dig the bloody holes.

Rant over.

Jimmy (still not dead)

2008-05-16T23:05:00.001+01:00

Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated!

2008-02-13T22:21:00.001Z

166 )What, no picture?

Today as I strolled around Chichester bus station looking for somewhere to hide I realised that it smelt like summer. The sun was shining (it had permission) the sky was blue (in several places) and young ladies were showing more cleavage than cloth. The summer smell? Turns out the café had its windows open.

The bus station opened in 1956 to the rapturous applause of no-one in particular, it had been built over the old police station and rumour has it that the old underground cells are still there and retired drivers are stacked up inside sedated with Cliff Richards singing ‘Summer Holiday’ accompanied by Reg Varney tinkling the ivories (don’t ask).

Had another drunk on the bus the other day, well almost. As the passengers got on one chap leaned over (I thought he was going to kiss me for a moment) and whispered. . ‘You don’t want to let that bloke on mate’. Now normally drunks aren’t much of a problem, I charge them £20 and they seem quite happy when I tell them the bars at the back, just open the little door there marked ‘emergency Exit’, but this one was different.

‘Where do you want to go to sir’ I asked hoping I could tell him this was the wrong bus but no, he knew where he was going and waved his free pass at me. ‘I,m sorry sir but I don’t think I should allow you to travel on this bus’, ‘I’m not getting off’. He replied. He had placed himself on the front platform and was leaning on the open door, I was tempted to close the doors but remembered that rather than force him out they would force him in.

Now the battle of wills began, I knew all eyes were upon me, the passengers all had faces that showed concern and they were in agreement with me but they wanted a show, where else could you be entertained for just £1.25. As I climbed out of the driving seat I glanced at the passengers and to a man they looked away and took great interest in the posters on the bus, I could faintly hear the opening bars of ‘The Good the Bad and The Ugly’ playing in the wind.

‘If you don’t get of my bus I’m going to . . . . . . look a right idiot’ was the thought going through my mind. ’I’m sorry sir but I consider you to be a risk to the bus, it’s passengers and to yourself and for that reason I must insist you leave the bus’ I said in my best authoritive tone. ‘No’ was the simple reply. I did have an ace up my sleeve but I was saving that for a game of poker later.

I stepped of the bus (I had turned the engine off just in case he got a silly idea) and phoned the depot for advice, they suggested calling the police. ‘I’m going to have to call the police and have you removed’ I informed him waving my mobile phone around pretending it was a light sabre like in Star Wars, I was even doing the sound effects!

He got off.

I got on the bus, apologised to the passengers for the delay and drove off in to the sunset (Sainsbury’s actually), I kept a straight face but the sense of relief was massive, one passenger complimented me on my handling of the situation. My fear was that this man would fall over on someone or just throw up, both would put the bus out of commission and ruin my day. Now is the time to say a big thank you to the unsung heroes in the bus depots, the cleaners, I’ve seen what they have had to deal with and it isn’t pretty.

2008-02-12T01:11:00.000Z

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible!