The Greyhound Bus - Chapter 2

Vancouver - where we should have stayed.

“Greyhound bus drivers are such pleasant people, I wish I could take one home to meet my mother,” said nobody, ever. During the 16 hour voyage from Vancouver to Calgary, we got to meet three bus drivers, each giving off vibes of joy and happiness. And by joy and happiness, I mean hostility, aggression and misplaced self importance. In Kelowna, we stopped for breakfast and a change of driver. There was a half hour delay getting back on the road, as our new driver had to have his required eight hour break between shifts before taking us onward.  This gave us time to sit and look around at one of the ugliest collections of individuals ever seen in one place at the same time. 

We were sharing a terminal with a Jake Gyllenhaal look-alike, an old man who looked like E.T. and a wannabe Eminem, with his cap on backwards and headphones in listening to a beat. Of course, these look-alikes were a stretch, but eased the boredom of the morning to a certain extent. Once we had gotten on the bus again and started driving, the opportunity to eavesdrop* on others’ conversations presented itself. One lovely gentlemen decided to strike up a conversation with the stranger next to him, much to the strangers’ delight I am sure. He was travelling back to his girlfriend’s house after visiting his family. From what I remember (and the details are somewhat hazy) he was unemployed, and had been with his girlfriend for three months. Perfect timing, then, to propose to her! Oh he was excited about putting a ring on it, and with him at such a good place in his life, why the fuck not get hitched? 

Now somewhere in the next four to six hours we stopped in several small-town bus terminals, which all looked like perfect places to murder someone in the dark of night. We got our third and most pleasant bus driver, and journeyed on, stopping what seemed like every half an hour for all the smokers to file off the bus and light up a cigarette. Another added bonus of catching the bus - passive smoking! 

It was during this leg of the journey we decided to be picked up in Canmore rather than Calgary. In Banff, we decided to let the bus driver know what we wanted to do. Well, I think we’d have had better luck asking him cut off his arm and drive one-handed the rest of the way. Apparently, we could only get off in Canmore if our bags were in the right place. Because heaven forbid a bus driver might actually have to do his job and LOOK AFTER THE PASSENGERS by finding their bags. As it happened, our bags were on top of the pile and easily accessible, so it was determined we would be allowed to alight earlier than anticipated. What a stroke of luck. 

So off we got in Canmore, and not a minute too soon, having learned the lesson that saving money is not always in our best interest, and bus wankers are the worst kind of wanker.

*Perhaps the only redeeming feature of travelling on public transport.