Blaming the Bus.

6 11 2012

The National Express Bus that I traveled on from 2am-7am to London Gatwick.

Just to warn you, the next few paragraphs have little to do with my actual trip, so as this is supposed to be a picture blog in general, feel free to skip it if you’d like.

The problem with trying to sleep on a bus at 2am (I suppose, from experience, a car elicits similar circumstances) is that even if you somehow manage to get one part of your body comfortable in some legal, contortionist-like fashion, something else is bound to be hindering your progress of some shut eye. This may take on any particular form, such as, your upper thigh falling asleep before you do, a thousand blue lights shining in your eyes, the bus driver boiling everyone to death and then subsequently turning on the air conditioning (which happens to be about as loud as ten beluga whales tap dancing on top of a Boeing), the same driver stopping in Cardiff because he feels the urge to smoke (which is followed by a loud re-orientation on how to wear your seatbelt and which direction the toilet paper faces in the bathroom), and you find a KitKat melted all over your pocket because the bus driver has turned the heat back up to 100 degrees Fahrenheit (at least KitKats are good).

So when you finally give up on sleep an hour and a half later and get out your laptop to do work, you find that the plug-in you are sitting at is probably the only one on the whole bus that doesn’t work. All of this, of course, happens after you find out that the last bus running by the village doesn’t actually take you downtown like it’s supposed to and you have to hire a sleezy cab instead, you find that the toilets in Tesco are only “open when the café is open” (aka not at night), you get a blood blister from a trolley (cart), and you get locked out of the bus station.

But you know, where’s a trip’s adventure without a little upset? Besides, I would feel like I was letting you down if I didn’t provide a little comic relief now and again. Hopefully you have enjoyed being the person reading this post (versus writing it). I will probably also join you in laughing about it after I sleep on something that’s not moving and shouting “WELCOME TO NATIONAL EXPRESS!” in my eardrums every half hour.


“I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1




2 responses

10 11 2012
Ellen Laird

Sounds wonderful! I took a late night bus trip to London as well (thinking I’d be able to sleep) pretty sure the guy I sat next to was drunk/drinking the entire trip. Very friendly though, pleasant to talk to provided his breath was not aimed in your direction.
I don’t remember if I’ve already told you that or not…..
Anyway, hope Turkey is awesome, I’m really jealous!

10 11 2012

Haha, that’s terrible. It’s probably a longer journey to London from Edinburgh than Swansea. And no, you didn’t tell me that, but yes, Turkey is great! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: