On the Odd Down 14 last week. Bit cruel, but couldn’t resist

To whit:

Little Old Man: Do you got to the R.H.U?
Me: O. N.


During today’s cold snap I spent the journies clad in two coats and had the heating up full with the windows firmly shut

Unfortunately, lurking behind a clutch of little old ladies at a stop on Moorland Road, was a Gentleman of the Road and, as much as I tried to avoid his gimlet gaze, I had to let him on. He smelt, as I feared, like a combination of the Elephant Man’s gym kit and John Prescott’s gusset, so I opened a window in an attempt to dissipate the clouds of nauseating, cloying stink

My dashboard thermometer read 3 degrees and, as he got off, the following exchange ensued

To whit:

GOTR: Bit cold, innit drive? Is the heating broken?
Me: No. Is your shower?


A teenage oaf got on the 13 in town, whereupon the following conversation ensued

To whit:

Teenage oaf: Yo, what time is it, lad?
Me: Lad?
TO: (oblivious) What time is it?
Me: Quarter past five
TO: Eh…?
Me: Eh…?
TO: What time is it in proper?
Me: Proper?
TO: Yeah, proper
Me: Er… 5:15?
TO: No, proper!
Me: (clutching at straws) 17:15?
TO: Right; I’ve got time for a ciggie
Me: A cigarillo? Perchance to smoke? A fortuitous happenstance, young sir
TO: Eh…?


On the Newbridge Park & Ride I found a scarf that had been left, judging by the pastel colours and overpowering smell of Chanel Toilet Freshener, by Miss Marple

Some time later, said little old lady got back on for the return journey and spotted the scarf that I’d secreted in the cab in order to drop it into Lost Property later

Me: Hello
Little Old Lady: Ooh, that’s my scarf
Me: Pardon?
Little Old Lady: (pointing urgently) My scarf! That’s my scarf!
Me: Oh OK. It’s doesn’t really suit me anyway
LOL: (taken aback) But… it’s mine…
Me: (making sad face) Sigh… here you go
LOL: It wasn’t expensive
Me: Ooh, lovely


One thing I’ve discovered is that most people don’t read the destination board on the front of the bus. They see the number and that’s it: they take no notice of where, as they say, it’s to. That can be an issue if the route is linear – goes through the bus station between terminuses – rather than circular – a route that starts and finishes there

Bath’s Royal United Hospital is a very popular destination throughout the day and is served by the 14 on a linear route between Weston and Odd Down. The relevant bus has ‘Weston via R.U.H.’ in big, bright letters on the front. The 14 to Odd Down, unsurprisingly, doesn’t.

Confusing for some passengers. To whit:

Little old man: Do you go up to the National?
Me: (On the Odd Down bus, so I know what’s coming) The National…?
LOM: You know, the hospital?
His stroppy little old wife: (fixing me with a steely glare) Yes, the hospital
Me: Oh, you mean the Royal United?
LOM: Yes, the Royal United National
Me: The hospital?
LOM: (rolling his eyes) Yes
HSLOW: (impatiently) The hospital
Me: No
HSLOW: (tutting) Come on, Frank
Me: Doop-de-doo


Belter from the 6, otherwise known as Charon’s Ferry. It’s quite full, and I am easily the youngest on board.

All of a sudden there’s something of a commotion towards the back.

To whit:

Little Old Lady #1: Oooh! OOOH!!
Me: (concerned) What’s happened?
LOL #2: She’s dropped her cakes
Me: Er…what?
All: She’s dropped her cakes!
Me: Well, I need the loo too…
LOL #3: No, she’s dropped her cakes. Look!
LOL #1: (sheepishly, to me) I’ve dropped my cakes
Me: Oh, have you dropped your cakes?
LOL#1: I’ve dropped my cakes
Me: Rueidge

She’d actually brought a tray of at least 30 nice-looking sponge cakes on to the bus and dropped the lot. The incident was the talk of the remainder of the journey.


A little old lady, pushing a four-wheeled zimmer-type thing at the speed of a tortoise rolling up a hill, flags me down by standing in the middle of the road and waving manically as I approach.

I manage to avoid her, stop and open the doors. As she staggers on, bashing all and sundry with the aforesaid contraption, the following conversation ensues.

To whit:

Me: Have you seen the colossal mess a bus the size of this one can make of someone like you?
Little Old Lady: (oblivious) I’ve just been to the doctor’s
Me: Yeah, you realise that what you just did is incredibly dangerous? You’ll be back at the doctor’s before you know it
LOL: I had an injection
Me: Did you? Was it meth?
LOL: Eh?
Me: It’s for the best. Park that thing where you can, OK?
LOL: I’ve just been to the doctor’s
Me: Jesus H Boots…


Yet another gem from the 10. A little old lady shrilly pipes out of the window to a gaggle of her shuffling silver-haired friends as we drive past.

To whit:

LOL: ‘Ere! I’m on the bus! Look! ‘Ere!
Me: Sigh…


Coming in from Bathampton, I stop to pick up a little old lady who I’d dropped off less than 10 minutes previously

Me: Hello again. That was quick
Little Old Lady: I forgot my prescription. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on!
Me: I know what you mean; I’d forget my balls if they weren’t in a bag
LOL: Pardon?
Me: Did you look in your handbag?
LOL: Yes
Me: Oh well… off we go


A beauty from the 5 last week

A young dad is struggling to keep hold of his toddler daughter, who’s patently jacked up on Haribo, Sunny D and Nik-Naks. As we approach their stop she liberates herself from his grasp and poodles up the bus. To her squealing delight he comes after her, grabs her and, as they get off, he says:

“‘Ere, you’re like Harry Hill!”

I think he meant Harry Houdini