beyond request stops (arr!)
It appears I may be supposed to talk like a pirate. Um ... arrrrr?
Entertaining vacation discovery #2: The friendly bus drivers of Epping.
The executive summary: Go ride the bus in Epping and surrounding areas! You won't regret it!
Being the silly American that I am, I think of all places with an underground station as being part of London. As you surely know by now, this is only one of the innumerable ways in which I am tragically deluded.
London is a city. As such, its bus drivers, while perfectly pleasant and rarely antagonistic, have to deal with far too many people every day to provide any hand-holding. They've got tranport to provide and they're going to provide it. If I were a resident of the city, who knew where she was going and how to get there, this would be fantastic. Alas, I am a useless, bumbling American who isn't even entirely sure where she is at the moment.
Thankfully, the bus drivers of Epping are here to help. Not only do they verify for me that I'm getting on the right bus, they tell me know how to save a couple of quid by getting a day saver's pass; let me know in advance when my stop is coming up; point out the stop for the return bus; and when they find out that I'm going to the Kelvedon Hatch Secret Nuclear Bunker, say that I should have said so earlier because they could have let me off right at the entrance. When I'm running a few seconds behind and start running to catch the return bus, they say I didn't need to run because they would have picked me up right where I was!
Friendly bus drivers make for friendly passengers. Never before have I seen such a jovial mix of tourists, cemetery visitors and older folks nipping down to the shops.
Entertaining vacation discovery #2: The friendly bus drivers of Epping.
The executive summary: Go ride the bus in Epping and surrounding areas! You won't regret it!
Being the silly American that I am, I think of all places with an underground station as being part of London. As you surely know by now, this is only one of the innumerable ways in which I am tragically deluded.
London is a city. As such, its bus drivers, while perfectly pleasant and rarely antagonistic, have to deal with far too many people every day to provide any hand-holding. They've got tranport to provide and they're going to provide it. If I were a resident of the city, who knew where she was going and how to get there, this would be fantastic. Alas, I am a useless, bumbling American who isn't even entirely sure where she is at the moment.
Thankfully, the bus drivers of Epping are here to help. Not only do they verify for me that I'm getting on the right bus, they tell me know how to save a couple of quid by getting a day saver's pass; let me know in advance when my stop is coming up; point out the stop for the return bus; and when they find out that I'm going to the Kelvedon Hatch Secret Nuclear Bunker, say that I should have said so earlier because they could have let me off right at the entrance. When I'm running a few seconds behind and start running to catch the return bus, they say I didn't need to run because they would have picked me up right where I was!
Friendly bus drivers make for friendly passengers. Never before have I seen such a jovial mix of tourists, cemetery visitors and older folks nipping down to the shops.