Just A Bus Trip Or A Daytime Nightmare?

I found myself having to catch a bus last week, the second week of the children’s school summer holiday. I was instructed to take my son to his Grandma’s house and with my wife having the car it left me with no choice but to do something that I hadn’t done for over twenty years - take the bus.

The 188 from Weymouth to Poole. I was to get on from the stop at the end of my road which wasn’t too far away from the town but a little too far to walk.

My son and I reached the stop ten minutes before aforementioned bus was due. Forty minutes later it still hadn’t turned up so I got on the number 92 which stated, Poole. On we jumped - I asked if he went all the way to Poole. No, he said, I don’t. Well it says “Poole” on the destination board, I stated. It says India on the tyres, he replied, but I’m buggered if I’m going there (Okay, the old ones are the best) - yes, of course I’m going to Poole.

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