BoyOnABus

As you may know we are under strict instructions here at Crinklybee Towers from my sister the famous doctor of workblogging not to divulge any information that may furnish the casual visitor/crazed vengeful stalker with the precise whereabouts of our new and only ever-so-slightly scary workplace.  However I don't think we are on too perilous ground if we limit ourselves to the journey there and back- so I hereby present a short guide to our daily commute from M19 to.... well never you mind exactly where, but let's say for argument's sake it's a sleepy suburban community somewhere just West of the M25 (and possibly in another county).  The thing is you see there are various options, but none of them are exactly ideal...

Option One- the train

The train was my conveyance of choice back in the flange days- and no wonder, when you consider that I could hop onto the 8:49 out of Levenshulme, take time out to peruse the back pages of the Metro and snaffle a bacon barm from Mo's Hot Food bar, and still arrive at my desk by 9:10 sharp and if I was nonchalant enough about it no-one would notice I had my shirt on inside-out.  For old times' sake, I still occasionally hop on the 8:49 at Levenshulme- even though it now takes me in entirely the wrong direction.

Advantages of getting the train:  I get to traverse the town centre at loft level, affording me a bird's eye view of the Castlefield district, where I look down loftily and picture what I have escaped from: a sweaty desk of flange clerks beavering away at the day's first batch of orders for two-inch aluminium hinge gaskets.

Disadvantages of getting the train:  It costs the best part of £5.00 a day, and if I miss the connection I arrive at work at something like half past ten.  Also, what exactly is the etiquette for claiming ownership of a discarded Metro newspaper?  Does it become public property at the moment the commuter adjacent to you loses interest in the Carlos Tevez transfer saga and casually tosses it into a nearby empty seat, or are you ethically obliged to wait until they have vacated the carriage (or at least started to stare vacantly out of the window, and perhaps busied themselves with deleting old text messages)?  This is a matter which troubles me and if anyone has the definitive answer I would be most obliged.

Overall score for getting the train:  5 out of 10.   

Option Two: the bus

Now when it works, the bus is just absolutely fantastic.  You leave the house at 8:09, jump straight on the 168, and a hop and a skip later are sitting at your desk somewhere in the far Western suburbs.  When it goes wrong, however, the bus has a tendency to go very, very wrong.

Advantages of getting the bus: For just three quid a day, I get to career adventurously across town on a more or less traffic-free off-the-beaten-track rush-hour route, in the company of a cosmopolitan mixture of uniformed shopworkers, sparkly-eyed twentysomething TEFL students, and a fair sprinkling of weatherbeaten, buspass-wielding pensioners who spend their entire days criss-crossing the city on inter-suburban transport.  Also I get to change buses in Chorlton and spend a precious forty minutes each day living the louche life of a Metropolitan bohemian metrosexuals of that suburb, occasionally snatching a swift half on pavement terraces inhabited by people who could at a casual glance be mistaken for Badly Drawn Boy or the bass player out of The Smiths.

Disadvantages of getting the bus:  After two weeks of solid bus travel you take on all the characteristics of a weatherbeaten pensioner and find that the back pages of your diary contain a complex handwritten chart containing extracts from timetables transcribed from bus-stops.  After three weeks your pedantry will have reached the stage where you will quite happily hold up the departure of the number 23 to Stretford for ten minutes on a point of principle concerning the exact peak-hour validity of a £3.00 dayrider ticket. 

Score for getting the bus: seven out of ten

Option three: the car

You would suppose this would be the least problematic option- and in some ways, I suppose it is...

Advantages of travelling by car: Air-conditioning. No need to argue with bus-drivers, or for that matter interact with anyone at all before nine o clock.

Disadvantages of travelling by car:  It takes just as long as the bus (because of all the other cars, and because you have to park half a mile from the office) and you don't get to hang out with attractive European girls or anyone from out of the Smiths- and even if you did they would studiously ignore you on account of the unattractive pallour and latent smallmindedness unavoidably brought about by hours of sitting in intersuburban traffic jams being subjected to the 'Topical' morning Radio Five Live phone-in show.

Score for travelling by car: four out of ten.

Option Four: the bike

Well it's only seven miles across town you know and during the punishing forty yard incline on the approach to Fallowfield Sainsburys you can cast yourself as the mountain goat of Levenshulme, chasing down a yellow-jerseyed Colombian as the air thins beyond the point of human endurance and the tip of the Val d'Huez becomes just visible through the dawn mist... 

Advantages of going by bike: You get to pretend to be in the Tour de France.  Also there's a bike track (which used to be a train track until the 1960s) as far as Chorlton, and deep down at the bottom of the embankmentyou come across sights and sounds not readily associated with the inner-city, such as a swarm of dragon-fly or a scavenging fox.

Disadvantages of going by bike:  Exposure to nature is all very picturesque, but on sunny days you arrive for your early-mornin meeting bathed in sweat and dragon-flies.  On rainy days, the allegedly waterproof trousers you bought for three pounds from TJ Hughes in Stretford Arndale will fail to prevent you reporting for duty looking like Doctor Foster after a particularly puddle-ridden visit to Gloucester, or a man who has recently leapt fully-clothed down a well for a drunken bet.   

Score for getting on a bike: when there is no weather at all to speak of: nine out of ten.  When there is some sort of weather (ie most of the time): five and a half out of ten.

So- the bus is the winner (although the dream ticket, which I have yet to muster the logistical wherewithal to attempt, really involves riding the bike as far as Chorlton, enjoying a caffe latte in some louche backstreet M21 joint frequented by Mani out of the Stone Roses and Curly out of Coronation Street, then jumping on the number 23 from outside of Woolworths).  Hurrah for the number 23 bus- if you see me on it any time (perhaps sweating profusely, brandishing a cut-price WH Smith diary covered in scrawled handwriting, and arguing with the driver over the terms of a midweek interurban offpeak transfer) then do be sure to come up and introduce yourself.  And that will be all for this week- thank you for listening.

Comments

[looby]

I used to cycle that sort of distance every day in London. I really enjoyed it, despite all the dangers.

The problem is this wave of perspiration which washes over you immediately you step into the hot office. Then you acquire a reputation as a bit sweaty, which certainly doesn't help with that lovely new Croatian girl on reception.

[MQ]

M25? Gosh, that is a long way away, Mr Bee.

Back in the day, when I used to cycle to Levenshulme station and catch the 07.33 (or watch the 07.33 pull away before my eyes and wait for the 07.52) before cycling the remaining half mile to work, one of my colleagues was puzzled.

On one of my last days there she revealed the source of her puzzlement.

"Oh, you catch the train most of the way here, do you? Because I knew you lived about 10 miles away and I know you don't take a shower in the morning when you get here. But the strange thing always was that you don't smell. I couldn't work out how you were cycling all that way each day and not getting sweaty."

I didn't mind her confusion but the thought of her sniffing me surreptitiously to check my odour levels throughout the year was amusing. In fact I only cycled the whole distance once (on the way home only), and did indeed get a bit whiffy, although I must confess there are no witnesses to that fact.

[looby]

I'm not one for product placement but there's something called Pit Rock which is a completely natural product which is like a stick deodorant. It doesn't block up your pores like normal deodorants but just kills the bacteria which make you smell. It's brilliant and really works.

[jonathan]

Pit rock? That's a new one to me Looby, but if it is any good at repelling the embankment-dwelling greenflies who ambush unsuspecting commuters like swarms of tiny bloodthirsty Dick Turpins then I might be persuaded to give it a go...

And MQ did I say M25, hell that would be a ridiculous distance to commute, I'd be needing a helicopter... I of course mean Manchester's very own circular high-speed thoroughfare the M60. Or at least I might do unless the whole motorway thing is a red herring designed to put stalkers off the trail of my new 9-5 destination...