Standing Room Only

Today

Recently my brother David was entertaining me with tales of how he maximises the use of his bus pass. This despite living in a very rural location. I think catching a bus for him involves leaping into the road and flagging it down, despite the lack of a bus stop. As well as travelling to the obvious local destinations such as Wells, Frome and Shepton Mallet, he uses the buses in much more adventurous ways.

David had heard tell of a bus, which seemed to be more myth than reality, which travels to Salisbury only on Tuesdays (why only Tuesdays, and why not only on Tuesdays which also fall on the third of the month and have a full moon?). David followed the clues and caught this bus which gradually filled up with other holders of bus passes along the route. From Salisbury he caught another bus to Old Sarum. Despite almost missing his connection back again, he had a splendid day, enjoying the bus experience as much as the destination.

In My Day

Dixon's Outdoor Transport (DOT for short) was the name of the bus company invented by David when we were children. He was the mastermind of this operation, devising elaborate timetables, naming all the bus stops ("Garden Gate" "Hollybush" etc), setting up a fares system and designing tickets. I suppose such a game was fairly inevitable, given our London upbringing and the central part that catching the bus played in our lives.

The bus was composed of us children like a sort of sedate conga, weaving our way from stop to stop. Timetables were punctually observed and fares taken in cardboard money. David and Chris were either bus drivers or conductors. Beatrice and I, according to ancient laws relating to the inferiority of both our junior ages and our sex, were only ever allowed to be passengers.

The management of the company was strictly David's; I don't think we were permitted to question the authority of the timetables which were miracles of precision, design and layout. I wonder exactly how many hours of my childhood were spent obediently chugging around behind my older brother, never questioning his right to act out his obsession and dreams.

It was this concern with and enjoyment of the detail and organisation of the bus system, apparent back back in the 50's as well as now, that made David's story last Saturday so fascinating and poignant.