Great Bus Journeys of our Times (Rolling like thunder)


#1

I was on the 142 bus on Saturday. You know, up in Manchester, like.

Got on it at Picadilly Gardens (didn’t see any grass or flowers) and got off near The Christie, Hospital. Bought a tuna and cucumber baguette in the Sainsbury Local before going to see my housemate recovering from his op.

Caught the 142 back again after the visit and hadn’t really left enough time for it to be comfortable. Had to run from the bus stop to Manchester Picadilly railway station to catch my train home.

Overall I’d say the bus was alright, a good 6 or 7 out of ten for the experience.

Calling this particular journey one of the greats of our time is possibly a stretch but this absolutely pointless thread isn’t going to create and post itself.


#2

The time I took the X24 from Glasgow to St Andrews, when I agreed to look after someone’s stuff while they nipped to the loos to (I’m pretty sure) get nice and loaded for the trip, and then I put my headphones on and went to sleep.

I woke up at Dunfermline to see him being escorted off by the police, having apparently assaulted everyone around him except for me, which just goes to show that no good deed goes unrewarded.


#3

I like the sentiment of the thread, but have nothing to contribute as I’m not a bus person


#4

tbh i’d say that was two bus journeys saps mate


#5

Was the loo on the bus or was the bus waiting at a terminus or summat?


#6

Great Bus Journeys of our Times


#7

Back in my 20s I used to get incredibly drunk after work, get the 154 home back to Sutton, and regularly leave my bag on the bus, leaving me to go and collect it hungover the following day from Croydon bus garage. You’d think I’d have learned after once or twice, but sadly not.


#8

Perhaps one of your aunts has a bus story.


#9

It’s nice that it got handed in each time.


#10

A terminus. Buchanan Street bus station. The lights in those toilets were blue/UV, so he was in for a challenge.


#11

Surprisingly saps, I don’t have any aunts, or uncles for that matter

Face it. You are not getting a bus story out of me.


#12

There was that time I was on an N8 bus home from Something Serious with an ex-DiSer, and he threw up everywhere on the top deck just as we were going past St Pauls cathedral. I had to carry him down the stairs and off the bus where he threw up again into the bushes.

We then got on a 25 bus, where he threw up again somewhere near Mile End, and so we had to get off that one as well. Then we caught another 25 bus to Stratford, where I caught another N8 bus home to Leytonstone, while he went to Leyton.

It took over two and a half hours to do a journey that should have taken under an hour, and I ended up with vomit splashes all over my trousers and shoes.


#13

Vintage Smiggsy.


#14

This should go in the Grim Bus Journeys of our Times (Rolling like chunder) thread.


#15

Sutton is on my short but storied list of places in South West London where I’ve woken up having fallen asleep on a bus. See also: Richmond, Ealing Broadway, Chessington and Kingston (although Kingston was usually where I was trying to end up so that one wasn’t so bad).


#16

Can we just have a moment’s silence for the poor souls that have taken the X5 bus between Oxford and Cambridge, please.


#17

It’s a lot easier to actually get home having fallen asleep on a bus and woken up in Sutton, than it is to get home having caught a train which stopped at Sutton but you woke up in Dorking. You definitely don’t do that more than once, especially when you were as broke as I was at the time.


#18

The second worst bus route I’ve suffered through. Only topped by the X26 from Glasgow to St Andrews, which took three and a half hours and gets quite close to St Andrews before doing a coastal loop that takes you further away from it then goes into it from the north.


#19

Remember that guy decapitated someone on one of those greyhound buses in America? That would have been unpleasant for all concerned.


#20

Usually stayed awake on trains home because the stakes were much higher (there was an outside chance I’d wake up in Portsmouth).