Bus

One of the first hurdles to face was getting the school bus to school. Of course, excited like a pre-schooler, I waited for a big bus of high school kids to roll up. I expected a front seat all the way to my little school half an hour away. Cue an example of the kind of situation whereby it is important to find interest in otherwise trivial things.

At the high school, we all get off and I wait for my next bus that will take me on the next longer leg of my journey. Ten minutes later, there it is! The 86, driven by a rather weathered and fun sized looking lady, pulls up and offloads it’s snapback and vape wielding horrors onto the unfortunate assistant assigned to the high school.

My rather withering description of Henriette goes to show how first impressions are almost always false. I find out i will be alone, with my two (later three) different bus drivers going to and from school. The obvious, being that we are in the daily situation of each others unique company , is that a strong friendship, familiarity and comfort with one another would develop. Less anticipated were the various journeys to be undertaken before eventually arriving at school.

Some mornings we go to the Depot. Most mornings, in fact. It was only after our relationship had blossomed, that I was finally invited in to the little office where the drivers congregate. Exchange stories of students lighting one another on fire, and meet me. Peculiar, their glances seemed to say, that he should be in our little warehouse office. Actually I think this was the least interesting of our little pre journey pauses. We went to her gym. Well I didn’t go to her gym. Thankfully the Canadian equivalent of Dunk the Donut is never very far away. I’ve still got my loyalty card for the surplus bread shop. One free loaf for every sixteen purchases, I was never going to make the most of it. Nevertheless, Henriette made sure that if she was going to ferry me around Saint Georges every morning, I was going to understand the importance of economising. In fact, did you know that in Canada all of the discount magazines and advertising is put into one convenient sack? Neither did I, until we stopped to pick up a couple, and have it explained that; if you take a Walmart voucher to Maxi, you can save one dollar twenty five on margarine. I don’t even like margarine.

The buses are equally offered to those people unable to drive, and this was a rather unique opportunity to discuss and understand the key role some of the industries in Saint Georges provide for these people with difficulties. Our frank discussions about the unfortunate girl with a degenerative disease, and the sorrow expressed by Henriette discussing her longing for the farming and land based life of her childhood, coupled with her admission that most drivers, herself included, suffer heart related issues were all things I would never have experienced driving a car. So perhaps the message here should be that having a car is essential.