On the buses
Dec. 22nd, 2004 10:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyI sometimes catch the East bus into the city centre. It's only about four stops and is quite handy for rainy days. I catch it home less often. I caught it home today.
It's a rather roundabout ride home, through the winding beachside streets. My mental map used to show a long, twisting trip through suburbia, followed by a landmark stop at Lyndoch (a home for the elderly), past the cemetery (yes, it is next to Lyndoch and doesn't everyone like to chortle at the opportune placement) and the boathouse, then more twisting streets until my stop.
Last time I caught the bus home was the very sad night that my old car Max died. All went well until we reached the boathouse, when, instead of turning left back into the twisting streets, we went straight ahead to the highway, out to the university before turning back and making a lengthy stop at the shopping centre. This was all too much for me - it was late and dark and I was tired and hungry and stressed about Max and work and I didn't know where I was going to end up - so I got off there and caught a taxi home. I was paying the taxi when the bus eventually hurtled down my street, and I felt a bit silly.
Today I caught the bus home and discovered that they've changed the route again. We got to Lyndoch and, instead of turning towards the cemetery, we kept going, over the bridge and out of the city. Not tired or hungry or stressed and with nowhere else I had to be, I sat back to enjoy my magical mystery tour. We ended up in Allansford, some fifteen minutes out of the city, where we picked up a handful of people outside the pub, before coming back into the city to complete the more expected route of cemetery, boathouse, university, shopping centre, home.
It's a rather roundabout ride home, through the winding beachside streets. My mental map used to show a long, twisting trip through suburbia, followed by a landmark stop at Lyndoch (a home for the elderly), past the cemetery (yes, it is next to Lyndoch and doesn't everyone like to chortle at the opportune placement) and the boathouse, then more twisting streets until my stop.
Last time I caught the bus home was the very sad night that my old car Max died. All went well until we reached the boathouse, when, instead of turning left back into the twisting streets, we went straight ahead to the highway, out to the university before turning back and making a lengthy stop at the shopping centre. This was all too much for me - it was late and dark and I was tired and hungry and stressed about Max and work and I didn't know where I was going to end up - so I got off there and caught a taxi home. I was paying the taxi when the bus eventually hurtled down my street, and I felt a bit silly.
Today I caught the bus home and discovered that they've changed the route again. We got to Lyndoch and, instead of turning towards the cemetery, we kept going, over the bridge and out of the city. Not tired or hungry or stressed and with nowhere else I had to be, I sat back to enjoy my magical mystery tour. We ended up in Allansford, some fifteen minutes out of the city, where we picked up a handful of people outside the pub, before coming back into the city to complete the more expected route of cemetery, boathouse, university, shopping centre, home.
