Port Out...

Today the top deck is peaceful and warm. A few muted sounds drift up from below; the hum of the engine is therapeutic. A guy with glasses and a brown coat (you know, that guy) is asleep in the back corner. Today the top deck is predominantly middle class. (Can I say that? I'm sure some of the other passengers would object.)

I look across the road to a 43 bus stuck in a queue of traffic heading south, and I'm glad I'm not on that bus (mainly because I'd then be going the wrong way, and I'd have to get off at the next stop and cross the road).

We pass house number one hundred and ninety nine on Palatine Road, and it looks like quite a Posh house, mainly because it has the house number carved out in words on a piece of stone. Their next-door neighbours, at No. 197, seem a little more down to earth.