A trip on the
bus to Pennard was what was planned and it involved catching the
bus from Blackpill. Not a trip that I had done that often but I
left the house with 15 minutes to spare in the belief that would
allow me ample time. It was a warm day but not the sort of day when
the weather could be totally trusted so a windproof jacket was a
sensible choice, after all photography involves quite a lot of standing
around and waiting.
I hadn’t been gone
long before it occurred to me that 15 minutes was not going to be
enough time so I did a combination of trotting and walking. In this
way I arrived at the bus stop with a minute to spare. The bus arrived,
I showed my pass and walked down the bus to the first available
seat. I stopped, turned around and was just about to sit down when
the driver prodded his accelerator and released the clutch, this
was a driver of the ‘rough and ready’ brigade. The bus
shot forward, my body’s natural instinct was to stay upright
but with the weight of the camera bag on my back and the sudden
G force there was nothing for it but to succumb and dutifully fall
flat on my back. Embarrassment is a terrible affliction and sometimes
the brain has this false notion that if it tries to convey to all
around that what has happened is part of everyday life then much
blushing is spared. The message which sped around my body conveyed
the need to rise up quickly and quietly take my seat but this, I
found, was prevented by the weight of the camera bag and so it was
that only with much heaving and grunting did I manage to struggle
up and be seated. I imagine that this performance was not missed
by many people.
I was in considerable
discomfort and not a little pain yet in reply to the kind lady now
sitting next to me I confirmed I was in good health.
“Are you sure you’re
alright?” asked the lady in the seat in front. Clearly a genuine
disbeliever and a lifelong doubting Thomasina.
“Yes, yes, I’m
fine,” I said as if I was in the habit of assuming horizontal
positions in the middle of a crowded bus. The lady sitting next
to me made no further comment.
As the bus moved on up
Mayals hill the heat started getting to me, beads of perspiration
were gathering on my brow and running down the side of my face.
It would have seemed an over-reaction to have stood up and explain
to the commuting crowd that my overheated state was merely the result
of a brisk run to the bus stop and I was not in immediate need of
the Air Ambulance.
We reach Newton and the
driver shouts back a request for information on the whereabouts
of the bus stop – this man is clearly a novice!
We reach Pennard and
turn right into the housing estate, the driver pulls out a map –
oh dear! A lady gets up and stands by him to guide him through.
“Drop me off here,”
she says, “now turn right up here then left and when you get
back to the main road turn right and go all the way to the roundabout
at the end. Then you go back to Swansea but you don’t need
to come back through this estate.”
Looked like he was on
his first day, in which case he just had to be forgiven!