Thinking that it’d be quicker to take the bus, than walk, I hopped on the number 319 heading down towards Cla’am Junction. There’s something quintessentially British about a red-double decker, as well, it provides welcome relief from disagreeable drizzle. Today, the windows were misted over in a rheumy fog, and it being peak hour, was rather more congested than comfortable. Those unfortunates not able to get seats, swayed perilously along with the streaming traffic. Still, the good ol’ London bus is a convenient way of getting round – until it’s not.
Today, was one such day. The 319 came to an abrupt halt and then didn’t move. Five minutes, ten, twenty minutes in – the passengers were starting to get restive, checking their phone apps, craning their necks to see what on earth the bother was. (Our bus driver was silent on the topic; as far as I could see, we were in a traffic deadlock.)
Usually at the juncture the Driver will open the doors to let the passengers out, but because the doors were we traffic-side he couldn’t safely do so. Stuck, people fidgeted, checked their watches yet again, complained loudly down their mobiles to loved-ones, “I’m going to be late – stuck in traffic!”
Twenty minutes turned to thirty and then forty, in that time the bus had lurched forward perhaps a meter. Approaching an hour, the air on the bus was fetid, similarly the mood. People began aggressively dinging the bell.
“Driver! Open the Door!”
“Open the door, for F’k’s sake!”
(Our unseen Driver for whatever reason, declined to respond.)
Usually, by any bus door, there’s an emergency button that should release it. This was pressed repeatedly to no avail – “Let us out!”
A revolt was on-hand!
An enterprising young man, worked his umbrella between the door rubber, and achieving a chink, was assisted in yanking the doors open. Fresh air flooded in! Freedom!
Every passenger aboard made for the doors like lemmings, like rats pouring off a sinking ship. We weren’t the only ones. There were buses stuck ahead and in a long line behind, with hundreds of people streaming off them – a swarming exodus. Seeing the crowds about me, so many souls pressing in and along the street, I couldn’t help but think just how crowded a city London is, in fact how crowded an island. (It is the tragedy of the commons in action.)
Remember the Bus Rule, never try to catch one if you’re in a hurry:
1. It will be late, or
2. it will be cancelled, or
3. it will be too full to board, or
4. it will come in threes, just after you’ve given up waiting!
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