Monday, 31 March 2008

Portuguese Tourist

Those who have travelled on London's buses on multiple occasions will almost certainly be familiar with the Lecherous Freak. Bus-riding freaks come in many forms, but the Lecherous Freak is one of the most annoying because of his persistence.

Unfortunately I had to endure a Lecherous Freak on a recent bus journey - again, on the number 6, which is a fairly civilised bus compared to some others like the *cough*25*cough*. A Portuguese guy and his wife wandering around in Queen's Park. The guy asks me, "Does this bus go to Oxford Circus?" We're standing at the 6 bus stop, on the right side of the road, and I have a rule of being generally helpful to tourists, so I say yes. He then asks "How do you get to Arsenal?". WTF? Do you want to go to Oxford Circus or Arsenal? I say I don't know, but you can't get a bus that goes to Arsenal from this bus stop. The guy seems satisfied with this. He talks for a while with his wife in Portuguese about how cold it is. Which is odd, because it really wasn't. I can understand Portuguese because it sounds like Spanish that had a head-on collision with a banjo and a bottle of moonshine. I wouldn't, however, try speaking Spanish to a Portuguese person as you never know if they're going to get annoyed at you.

The (really OTT) bitching about how cold it is is brought to an end by the arrival of that majestic chariot, the number 6. We all get on the bus. The Portuguese guy asks the driver, "Do you go to Piccadilly Circus?" WTF? Now you want to go to Piccadilly Circus? Jeez. Then he asks how much it is. The driver says, "Four pounds."

Admittedly £2 a journey is pretty steep considering you're likely to be exposed to all sorts of unpleasantness during it and it will probably take hours in London's traffic. But hey-ho, just look at it as a cultural experience. The tourist seems unwilling to take this view and incredulously asks the price a few more times, perhaps in the hope that the bus driver will lower it. The bus driver does not, so he pays it and comes to sit down. Next to me. Joy. Why don't you sit next to your wife??

He comments about how expensive the bus is. Now, my tolerance for tourists doesn't extend this far, especially because I was on the phone at the time trying to sort out something for work, so I shrug apathetically. Not getting the reaction he wants from me, he then bitches to his wife about how expensive it is. They repeat variations of "ay, that's ridiculous, that's unbelievable," etc.

I spend the next twenty minutes attempting to look really busy writing a to-do list and getting increasingly annoyed at the guy, whose hand is mysteriously ending up on my right thigh despite the repeated murderous glares I am giving him. Not only is he a Lecherous Freak, but his wife's sat right on the seat in front!

By the time the bus gets to Edgware Road I've really had enough of the freak and have been sending frantic sympathy-seeking text messages. He, unfortunately, has not had enough of asking questions, and now proceeds to ask, "Where is Galeries Lafayette?"

Er...am I hallucinating? Since when did Edgware Road transform into Paris, Berlin, Nice or the like? There is no fecking Galeries Lafayette in London. The number 6 is not the Eurostar, sorry. I pretend I didn't hear the question or that it wasn't addressed to me (forgivable given I was staring out of the window). The guy asks the driver, who is equally confused. "Do you mean Selfridges?"

"No," says the guy, "Galeries Lafayette."

"There's no Galeries Lafayette in London."

"Is it...where the Ox-ford Street?"

"Do you mean Selfridges?"

"No...Galeries Lafayette."

"That shop isn't in London."

"The Ox-ford Street?"

"Next stop," says the bus driver, who is probably as happy as I am that the bus is now rounding the corner at Marble Arch.

The guy knocks on the window where I'm sitting and waves at me as he and his wife head off down Oxford Street in search of Galeries Lafayette.

Standoff on the number 6

oh, there's never a dull moment on London buses, no sirree. I was on a number 6 bus last week and the journey had proceeded from Aldwych, where I caught the bus, to Warwick Avenue without incident. Could it be that my journey home was going to pass without involving a violent altercation between passengers/passenger & the driver/the driver & another motorist/the bus & a wall?

well, clearly not. I had erected my London Lite in order to prevent any interaction with my fellow passengers (this may sound rude, but remember this is in London, and Londoners know that the buses normally contain at least one weirdo). So it took me a while to realise that the bus had been stopped for some time. In fact, the driver just turned the engine off! What was going on?

I ventured out from behind my newspaper to assess the passenger next to me, who thankfully showed little sign of being a freak (I'm all about the snap judgements), and enquired why we had stopped. She didn't know. Some unidentified person behind me revealed that it was because a woman had got on the bus who for whatever reason the driver did not want to be on the bus. The driver had told the woman to get off the bus. The woman had refused.

Standoff on the number 6! The mood on the upper deck of the bus became fractious rather quickly. About 2.45 seconds after the engine was switched off, shouts of "What the f*** is going on?" and "Just f***ing drive the bus!" started to filter down the stairs. This is clearly a testament to the patience of Londoners. The shouts were then followed by a stream of people down the stairs wanting to get off. The woman who was causing the fracas was still refusing to get off the bus, and the driver was still refusing to drive. He did, however, open the doors, and a tide of impatient passengers surged forth onto the august pavements of Little Venice.

I was still on the bus, being a) slightly less impatient b) curious and c) unwilling to desert my seat, which I had had to trample old ladies and children to get (only kidding - I restrict trampling to the able-bodied). A number of passengers started to lecture the woman, using a variety of language (ranging from the quite polite to the unmentionable). The woman held her ground. Passive-aggressive statements were made. ("SOME PEOPLE are SO SELFISH, there's a WHOLE BUS of people wanting to GO HOME who are STUCK HERE because one person won't GET OFF...").

Suddenly a keen-eyed passenger spotted that another number 6 had pulled up behind the stubbornly stationary one on which I was sitting (wow, could there be any more S's in that sentence?). The tide of people turned into a stampede as everyone attempted to get on the other bus, along with some opportunists who had not been on the first bus but definitely appreciated a chance to get on the new one free. The second driver, who clearly didn't have a clue what was going on, raised his eyes and hands to Heaven as the hordes poured on without explanation or swiping Oyster cards.

Unfortunately my elbows were not sharp enough to secure a seat on the new bus, which pulled away from the scene of the standoff. I wonder how long the bus waited there until she got off or the police came.

Quick Bus Overview: D3

Route number: D3
Bus type: Runt-sized single decker
Route: Crossharbour to Bethnal Green (London Chest Hospital), via Canary Wharf, Limehouse and Wapping.
Frequency: At first I wondered if this bus was a figment of my imagination the first few times I tried to catch it, after waiting more than half an hour with no bus materialising. However, a glance at TfL's website reveals that this bus does indeed exist in theory. A point to note is that this bus is nearly always on some diversion or other and there will probably not be anything warning you of this on the bus stop. Still, the excitement when you do actually witness one of these rare beasts makes up for it.
24 hour: Are you kidding?
Crowded: Nope, nobody expects this bus to come so nobody catches it.
Speed: Quite decent. Expect a bumpy ride through Wapping if you have a speedy driver - those cobbles mean business.
Environment: Fairly civilised, probably because of limited number of passengers. Mostly Canary Wharfers going home and Asda acolytes going to Crossharbour.

Advice for passengers using this bus: Take a good book to read at the bus stop. Something that will take a while to read, like War and Peace or the entire series of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. You may also want to take a video camera to record the emotional moment when the bus arrives.

Friday, 1 February 2008

Quick Bus Overview: 25

Route number: 25
Bus type: Death on Wheels Bendy
Route: Ilford to Oxford Circus, taking in the delights of East London, the City and the West End on the way.
Frequency: Varies from ten in a row to tumbleweed, but to give credit where credit's due, usually fairly frequent. Shame that every bus is full.
24 hour: Yes
Crowded: Worse than a can of sardines.
Speed: Vacillates between Formula 1-esque velocity on Sundays when you have a particularly enthusiastic driver and complete standstill on all weekdays in rushhour and anywhere remotely near Tottenham Court Road.
Environment: Rivals Guantanamo Bay for pleasantness. Usually contains one or more of the following:
  • ASBO teen playing music out loud on mobile phone
  • Incontinent homeless person
  • Terrible body odour from unidentified source
  • Empty beer can rolling around the bottom
  • Lecherous guy using the uncomfortably close quarters to grope women's bottoms
  • Approximately five thousand fare dodgers
  • Person carrying contents of Argos/Ikea with them
  • Vomit
  • Stifling heat
  • Ebola virus

Advice for passengers using this bus: Don't.