It was a beautiful morning, and Anne and I decided on a quick trip to the shops. As we had a busy afternoon planned.
As we turned the corner to the bus stop, there was my favourite bus, the 465, heading towards us— a good start to our day.
Any journey along the main road has become a journey of heroic proportions. There is no such thing as a quick trip to the shops. Roadworks, burst water pipes, and four extra temporary traffic lights made each outing a hazardous experience. Most of your day can be swallowed up in waiting anxiously for a bus either way.
Buses are announced on the indicator boards, then inexplicably disappear when they are shown to be almost there. A new time is indicated with a half-hour wait, a wail from the gathering awaiting passengers. Followed on occasionally by the cry, “Look, it has changed again! It is almost here, here it comes.”
Our return journey was not so lucky; as three bus stops from our destination, the bus broke down.
Conveniently at a bus stop, where we were asked to alight. “There is another bus coming up behind in a few minutes, a number 71,” said the driver. A despairing cry arose from some passengers, as that bus would not take them to Leatherhead or Dorking or stops in between.
Anne and I decided to take the 71 and cope with the longer walk home.
Once settled on the 71, we went four stops when we were told we had to alight here, as the driver had been instructed to turn the bus around and return to Kingston, picking up passengers on the way.
A cry of protest from the passengers, “Not again, what is going on?”
We gathered our belongings and disembarked the bus to join another crowd on the pavement. They had been turned off the previous 71 for the same reason. Our driver was no help as he had to follow orders and was as puzzled as we were.
Phones were consulted for information, any information.
A young Downs Syndrome man said, “I am going to be late for work at Chessington World of Adventures. Wait a minute, the next bus is going to go there; it says so on my phone.” A sigh of relief swept through the crowd now waiting at the bus stop.
Anne and I finally walked our weary way home, certainly not a quick trip to the shops.
©️2026 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen.
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