Public Transport Reflections on the buses

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Clearly years of driving has done nothing but turned me into an alien or so it seemed as due to my car breaking down I had to resort to catching the public transport. Already developing symptoms that one could only associate with OCD I cringed as my daughter innocently touched and kissed things before I could remind her how dirty they were.

As if that wasn’t hard enough to deal with I then had to remember to tone down my ever so friendly personality. My daughter clearly didn’t mind as she smiled and shouted hello to everyone. Upsetting however was the atmosphere on the bus which was very serious and gloomy, I dared not speak to anyone.

The moments that were nice though were the values that a society continue to uphold across all cultures and that is the act of giving up ones seat to children, elderly or pregnant. On one bus I seen a collection different cultures all sharing the same space with no pecking order.

The most awkward moment was presented to me when a man began talking to me. Me not wanting to be rude listened as he shared his life story with me. In the space of 15 mins I learnt about the loss of his parents, his memory loss, his accident, his fight with the NHS to establish healthcare practices that are quite often forgotten. And much more. I really didn’t know how to end the conversation as he seemed to pour his heart out whilst demonstrating his heroic fight to get others what he couldn’t.

Finally my day ended with me squashed amongst individuals, people brushing past me. I was traumatised but very grateful at the end of the day to get home.

Would I do it again? Of course but with a survival guide!
Distractions (Newspaper, Listen to a book)
sanitiser (when no ones looking)
Heavily perfume myself
wear gloves

I miss my car 🙂

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