I thought about the bus journeys we had taken, and I laughed so hard.
As we were making our way from SF to head on our train journey down south, we had to board an Amtrak bus to take us over to Oakland to the train station. The driver knew our names. I had pre-booked. We were the first people on the bus and sat down a few seats behind the driver. Once the driver got back on, he basically said what the hell are you doing down there and motioned for us to move up closer to him. So we did.
And then he regaled me with tales of how he met his wife, which were hilarious. Hi Michelle (wife) and Karen (room mate). It didn’t matter when he picked up other passengers, he just threw their luggage into the bus and continued talking to me.
I didn’t want to be rude and had to listen closely and and chat to the guy with the whole bus listening. Daughter kept giving me her stinky eye.
En route to Salinas…
Female bus driver complimented me on my top. She loved the colours.
Old Town, San Diego…
Waited for ages for the bus driver (another female) to board a black, disabled man. A white guy gets on, and is irate because his bus pass won’t pass the muster. After about fifteen minutes of arguing with her, the black man says…I’ll give you the dollar if you need it. White man won’t accept it. It’s the principle man. It was finally sorted and as the white man made his way down the bus, he hugged the black man and said I really appreciated your offer, but I had already paid for my ticket.
These were the things I loved about California.