Wednesday 8th March 2006. Back again.

After a partially successful day, during which I fell asleep for 45 minutes, I was waiting patiently for my bus home. Patience is key. Nothing ruins a good bus journey like getting anxious about how long it'’s taking, or getting upset that every other bus has passed you five times before yours arrives. The waiting is part of the whole experience. At the risk of sounding cliched and 'trendy'’, I think we can live our Instant McLives in such a hurry all the time that slowing down to wait patiently one in a while is a Very Good Thing.

So I waited and watched some people go by and then the bus came and I jumped on, brandishing my £3 day pass. The driver gave me a barely perceptible indication that he had seen the pass. It might have been a twitch, actually. His expression suggested that I may as well have been brandishing a cheese pasty. But I do generally like 43 bus drivers; I suspect I will have more to say about them in posts to come (see how I keep you eager and hanging on for more?)

The evening bus was bustling and animated compared to the mid morning ride. Some people were even talking. In fact, the journey in the evening is usually so different from that of the morning that my whole trip is rather more circular than linear. It had started raining again during the ride home, so my wife decided to pick me up from the bus stop in the car. She'’s amazing.