Tag Archives: bus

Wheely Loving Life

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At the moment it feels like I am zooming downhill on the road of life, enjoying the wind in my hair with only a few bumps ahead.

Everything is going well and I have finally lost the weight I accumulated six months ago.

I realised I had to do something when I went up a dress size and was forced to bulk-buy so I had enough work clothes, sending me into my overdraft this month.

So how did I lose weight?

I love food but I tried to cut down on sugar, especially after my dentist said I had acid erosion.

I also increased my exercise intensity and frequency. Instead of going to the gym once a week, I went two or three times a week.

I started cycling to work more often. Then I bought a cheap fold-up bike from my local Halfords in the sales. I had not realised how heavy it was and lugging the 14kg box the half an hour to the bus stop was an ordeal.

This lovely little fake Brompton means I can commute to work when half the day is dry and then carry it on public transport when it rains. The bus driver was not impressed but I just smiled sweetly and thanked him profusely. I ensured I kept it secured and out of the way of passengers.

I try to do some exercise every day.

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I have increased the number of netball matches I help out with. I used to play in one every few weeks. Now I play up to three matches a week, actively volunteering rather than waiting for an invite. The practice means I can now run faster and defend better.

I love the game because of its fast pace, the intensity, the fine footwork, the challenge and the thinking involved. Helping to get the ball in the net is such a boost. I don’t even realise I’m doing exercise when all my attention is fixed on the blurry ball as it arcs from player to player.

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On the weekend I go for at least one long bike ride. I am lucky that I live near the Peak District, so I pedal out to local beauty spots or to villages and back.

I love the sense of freedom and admiring nature’s beauty, enjoying the breeze cool your face. When you whizz downhill and lean over the handlebars it feels like you’re flying.

I like to stop at little cafes at the furthest point of my journey as that helps me stay motivated on the hills. Then I take in the scenery whilst sipping lemonade and enjoying a slice of cake. I don’t have to feel guilty about it either because I burn around 880 calories and zero fossil fuels on a 25 mile round trip.

Remember, cars run on money and make you fat, but bikes run on fat and save you money!

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Think about your week. How could you increase the amount of exercise you do?

 

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Filed under Cycling, Days out/nights out, Uncategorized

Overheard on the Bus – The “Drunk” and Disorderly

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Last time I was on the bus I overheard drug addicts excitedly discussing their upcoming fix.

Tonight I was in for a treat again. I was sleepy and so was quite startled by the exceedingly loud tones of the exuberant rosy-cheeked teenager shouting at her gay friend at the back of the bus. She had black ringlets framing a small face, with bright brown eyes. She was very skinny and dressed in a white sleeveless blouse despite the cold. Her friend was short and skinny with styled hair falling into his face.  I didn’t dare look at her for too long, she was clearly volatile.

“I’M DRUNK!” She yelled. “I’ve had SIX SHOTS of JD and coke” [I wondered what sort of coke she was talking  about] AND YOU ONLY HAD ONE!!! YOU’RE SUCH A LIGHTWEIGHT YOU!” JDcan4

Her friend’s comments were mostly too quiet to hear. He was clearly embarrassed of her.

She said proudly: “I AM OFF…MA….TITS!! WE ARE GONNA GET ON IT TONAAT!” [tonight].  

Silence.

“I AM SO DRUNK! A’VE HAD SO MANY JD’s…

A NEED A WEE!!! BETTER CROSS ME LEGS.

I AM OFF MA TITS!!! AND I DON’T CARE! A DON’T CARE [A=I]

I started to get a bit fed up of this rowdy unhinged passenger. We pulled in at the main stop in town. People piled on and she got excited with the hustle and bustle. All these people to get attention from.

“I AM SOOOOOOOOO DRUUUUUUUNK!!! HAD SOOOO MANY JDs. TOO MANY. I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M THIS DRUUUUUUUUNK!! I AM F****** OFF MA TITS! F****** DRUUUUUUNK!

I rolled my eyes. Yep, we get it, you’re “drunk”!

IF ONE MORE PERSON GIVES ME A LOOK I AM GUNNA START. I AM JUST GONNA GET UP AND SMACK EM. A DON’T CARE”

Everyone staring quickly looked back the other way.

“THAT LADY IS A TRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAMP!! LOOK AT HER! WHAT A TRAMP.

Her hair is SO GREASY! EWWWWWWWWWRGGHHH IT’S LIKE A LAYER OF SLIIIIIIME!!

Have you seen it though? Her hair is SO GREASY!! BET SHE AIN’T WASHED HER HAIR IN WEEKS!! WEEKS!!! A WASH MA HAIR EVERY. DAY!!!

DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSGUSTING!!”

Had she run out of steam? Nope. She started shouting again at the top of her lungs.

“I ‘AV PROBATION TOMORROW AT 9.30 INT MORNIN. 9.30!! WHO GOES TO ANYTHING AT F****** 9.30 GETTY_W_102511_ArrestHandcuffed-300x168INT F****** MORNIN. I’m goin aat [out] tonight and I ain’t gonna be up in time. But a don’t care. A DON’T CARE!!! A TOLD THE B**** I AIN’T COMIN’. SHE CAN DO WHAT SHE LIIKES. A DON’T MIND IF A GO T’T LOCKER, FREE FOOD!!”

She cackled.

“A NEED A WEE! OO I COULD WEE RIGHT NAA [now] WHERE I’M SITTIN! WOULD GO ALL O’ER [over] SEATS! A’M TELLIN YOU THOUGH I NEED THE LOO. BEST CROSS ME LEGS I GUESS.

I AM SO DRUUUNK!!”

[oh, thought she’d forgotten about that. I preferred the probation talk. Maybe she’d enlighten us as to what it was for…]

“A HAD SOOOOOOOOO MAAAAANYY JDs!! Didn’t even KNOW A COULD DRINK SO MUUUCH!! A AM BLINDIN DRUUUNKKK.

CAN WE GET OFF THE BUS AN [and] START ON SOMEONE? PLEASE?

Please lets just get off the bus so I can start on someone. A WANNA START ON SOMEONE. NAA!!”

Everyone flinched.

“I DID IT BEFORE an I got in a right lorra trouble BUT SHE DESERVED IT, THE COW. A’D DO IT AGAIN, ANYTIIME! YOU JUST WAIT! You just wait.”

Ah, so that’s why she was on probation. Oh dear. Perhaps she’d add something else to her charge sheet tonight.

Her friend said: “Wait til we get to town luv.”

“OK, I’M STARTIN ON SOMEONE TONIGHT THOUGH. A NEED TO. SOMEONE’S GONNA GET IT.”

Maybe she felt she had something to prove, being so skinny and short.

“Maybe a’ll snort some coke first.”

“A’M DRRRUUUNK! AND A DON’T EVEN CAAAAAAAAARE. A’m gonna miss ma probation. I’ve missed it like, 12 times and she says if a miss it again I’m gonna court. SO WHAT!! A’LL TURN UP IN COURT AND SAY YEAH I COULDN’T BE ARSED TO GO TO MY PROBATION AND I’LL GO TO JAIL! SO WHATT!! A DON’T CAAAARE! FREE FOOD INNIT. HAHAHAHAHA. FREE. FOOD.

WILL YA COME AND VISIT MA? WILL YA?? EVERYONE CAN COME AN VISIT. There’s loads of flippin’ lesbos in there but I DON’T CARE! They can do what they want. HAHAHAHA A DON’T CAAAARE. A’M THAT DRUUUUUNK A’M OFF MA TITS!”

At least she’d stopped swearing. So she did care a little about what people thought of her. Which probably wasn’t a lot right now.

When she got off sighs of relief rang out all over the bus. A peel of laughter reverberated around where she’d been deafening commuters returning home after a long day at work.

“Terrible” a guy said, and everyone burst out laughing again.

She clearly enjoyed herself not just by getting drunk and going out on the town like a lot of people, but also by assaulting strangers just for the fun of it. I hoped the ladette didn’t commit further offences that night and that she did indeed attend her probation appointment, even though she probably would been hungover or genuinely drunk. Oh the youth of today…

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Filed under Life of Lydia, Overheard on the Bus

Overheard on the Bus

It’s going to take a few days for me to charge my holiday camera and write about my incredible Istanbul adventure. I aim to do it for Sunday but I’m making no promises.

One of my favourite blogs “Stuff Heard On The Bus” frequently documents the random conversations you catch bits of during the daily commute. It’s always entertaining and off the wall so I thought I’d give it a go with the odd chat I overheard today…

There is a larger lady in front wearing a turquoise fleece. Thin glasses frame small eyes almost in the middle of her face. Her hair is glistening with a layer of sebum, it hasn’t seen shampoo or even dry shampoo for quite some time. Next to her sits a slim, slight young man with dark features, hollowed cheeks, a short beard and an impish grin. He’s wearing a sleeveless puffer jacket with a hoodie underneath.

He sings: “Ringing da bell, ringiiiing da beeeelll”

“Shussshhhhhh” she says, looking round at me. I look away.

“Look, aa can’t ‘elp it, you know what a’m like, a don’t av an off-switch. Anywe, a thought a was funny!” he sounds hurt.

She smiles and leans towards him, pinching his cheek: “You wahhhr” she says softly.[Yorkshire language. Translation =were, should be “was” but the grammar is incorrect]

We’re at a busy stop and students are piling onto the bus.

“ON CUM DE ANIMALS TWO BA TWO!!”

The passengers stare.

“Sssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Ssh yourself, ya can be really annoying you”

“Ye but no one wants to hear ya do they”

“How do YOU know?”

Silence.

She leans towards him again and says in a conspiratorial tone: “Soon we’ll be peelin. You’re peelin tonaht'”

[What were they peeling? vegetables? were they cooking dinner together? How romantic.]

“Peeling it, a peelin it” he sings triumphantly, moving a pack of multicoloured lighters into another bag and sticking a rolled up cigarette into his mouth.

“You’re not allowed to smoke it ya know”

“A know, I just like ta chew it, a like de taste”

Peelin it, a peelin it!”

His eyes widen and he bounces on the seat “Soon we’ll be peelin da foil off tha drugs!”

“SSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH don’t say thaaat” she looks round yet again.

They get off at the council flats and as they do I’m hit by a strong smell. I don’t know what it is but I don’t want to think about it as I put my head down into my scarf.

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They were clearly so wrapped up in addiction they weren’t concerned with personal hygeine. It was sad and I felt sorry for them. Thank goodness I have never been caught up in a cycle of drug-taking, debt and despair. I can’t think of anything worse. For example, I’ve heard of heroin addicts who give up their own children to the drug and seen how painful that is.

It’s crazy how intensely these peoples’ lives revolve around their next fix. Drugs become their only subject of conversation, when they are going to take it, who will have it first and then who had the most, who used it all up, when and how they are going to get some more. Once they’ve tried a bit it becomes just a bit more and it’s a slippery slope.

Don’t bother with drugs folks, nothing beats a natural high (e.g endorphins, love) and being addicted to it won’t kill you.

Love

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A night in Essex

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Surprises always carry some element of risk. So when I headed off down to Essex I just had to cross my fingers and hope for the best. But that made it exciting.

It required careful planning and some subtle questions. I booked time off work and the ticket. Then I asked where to send a birthday card, and whether it would be ok if it arrived a day early. I was arriving then as I had plans on the Friday – my friend had booked time off work to visit me and as she lived in London had kindly agreed to make it a road trip. I knew which station was closest as I had visited my boyfriend before. Then I had to find out what sort of birthday cake he wanted. So I said I was going to buy him a cake slice after work, what sort did he want. He was home the weekend before, back from working down in Essex. We had a rather heated discussion with him saying he didn’t want me to buy anything and with me still trying to find out what he wanted. I probed further at Birmingham, when as chance would have it we walked past a Patisserie Valerie counter in the Bullring shopping mall. I had already decided this was the most suitable option. I had previously spotted the cafe whilst trying to locate Boots in both stations to get an urgent product for a friend. Instead of having a cake going off on the train journey down I could buy it fresh there. Perfect! I love Patisserie Valerie. It’s so pretty and tasty and the cakes are unlike anything else I have seen.

So once at St Pancras I walked over to Kings Cross as the cafe is larger there. I picked up the fruits of the forest tart which I had discovered was the ideal birthday dessert. I was a bit worried it would get squashed on the connecting tube journey but luckily it was fine and in good packaging. Five hours later I was at a station in the middle of nowhere. I tried to call my boyfriend and it went to voicemail. I paniced a little. Plan B had not been settled upon, as I knew where my boyfriend was staying and what time he finished work. So I text him and then read a book about walking through Istanbul. It recommended the Galeta Bridge for a view of the ancient buildings. I decided Plan B was waiting until 9pm when he would have finished work at the latest and then getting a £25 taxi. This would cost as much as the cheap advance fare down covering two trains and the tube, for what was a 40 minute bus journey.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw my boyfriend calling. He didn’t sound as delighted as I had hoped, but that was due to a 6am-6pm day. He assured me in the car that he was delighted and seemed surprised by the Patisserie Valerie bag. He said he had no idea what it was. He’d obviously forgotten our discussions on two occasions on the subject with the amount of 12 hour days he had worked.

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We checked in to his lovely four star hotel and had a family room with two double beds. I looked forward to a good night’s sleep without the covers being pulled off me or being rolled into or trying to fit around a sleeping starfish. Like the Marriott the bathroom was all marble, with gold taps. They could have been cleaned a little better but after 027reading a microbiologist’s recommendations on hotels I knew that didn’t really matter, walking round in my flip flops. I was annoyed I’d forgotten antibacterial wipes which the article had said should be used for wiping down door handles and remotes. I’d checked it when I last stayed at the hotel when wondering whether to use the bath, and in the absence of a “chlorine bleach wipe” decided not to.

We went out to a Chinese restaurant, as the hotel’s restaurant menu is a bit limited. It looked like a former pub and had the words “Chinese, Thai and English cuisine” plastered on the front. The decor was lovely, all red Chinese lanterns. I chose the Thai menu and had a lovely creamy coconut and green curry soup with prawns and some rather 042interesting meat that tasted a little too slimy to be chicken. It was delicious though. Then I ordered pork sweet and sour. I imagined thin beef sirloin strips but instead I got fatty deep fried pork. I struggled through it as I didn’t want to cause a scene for my boyfriend’s birthday meal. An hour or two later I felt quite queasy- as I have IBS my digestion doesn’t cope well with fatty food. I made myself try a bit of the birthday tart – I wanted to see whether it was value for money. However it was just a biscuit base, some cream and some fruit. I was a bit disappointed but it looked great and my boyfriend enjoyed it. He saved some for work in his hotel fridge.

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When I settled down onto the bed once again I was disappointed that it was a firm mattress. This meant I couldn’t sleep. My boyfriend can sleep whenever he wants to, as long as he’s not too hot or cold. But I woke up every hour or so and in the morning awoke after a fitful sleep with a sore back. A double-blind study has confirmed this link. Jonny rushed off in the dead of night taking the tart for his colleagues to enjoy.

I now had the mission of getting to Edgware station. I had to take a bus in the middle of nowhere. Google said it was opposite the hotel but after walking around for some time I couldn’t see a stop. So I waited on the grass verge with cars whizzing past, one honking its horn at me. I started to feel a bit silly and wished I could hitch a lift. But miraculously the bus appeared from nowhere. The first one had not been until 9am, so I had told my friend the earliest I could arrive was midday. This meant we had more motorway traffic. I was the only person on the bus and told the driver to tell me when we got to the destination. I got off on a narrow country lane and walked round the corner to the next stop. Thankfully this time there was a bus shelter. No information though and I was unsure if I was on the right side of the road to do the next leg of the journey.

Then some old ladies turned up, all made up with bouffant dyed hair, talking about how they were going on holiday and how one of them had been exploring the local area with her free bus pass. It was a small village and they clearly knew everyone. I relaxed a bit when I heard one of them say that she was going to the station I was going to.

After winding round country lanes I queasily arrived at the station and felt proud of myself for getting there and saving £23.50 in the process. I did miss a train due to a typically slow bus but luckily the next train was delayed by a minute, arriving just a couple of minutes after my scheduled one. Then I took two tubes to complete the three hour journey. It was wonderful to make it to Edgware solely on public transport and to be able to plan with accuracy using transportdirect –  I had reliable times, maps and plenty of details.

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My friend then drove us with her friend for five hours up to London. It was a Friday and traffic meant a stop-start 071ride. I ate chocolates as I watched the entertaining sight of a bus going backwards – it looked like it was being driven instead of towed. I also enjoyed a hot spiced apple drink with cinammon and star anise in Costa Coffee, my favourite drink.

I had a lovely time in Essex although next time I think I’ll order something different at the Chinese, or perhaps try pub food.

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Filed under Days out/nights out, Food, Life of Lydia

Bug Buses

After the 10k on Sunday my legs were achy for the next two days, so I took the bus.

Public transport really bugs me and this week it did quite literally. On Tuesday morning a wasp was diving at the passengers and then angrily hurling itself against the window. It then sought comfort in the blonde’s hair in front of me. The young lady didn’t realise at first and then jerked away instinctively. KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

She hit it with the buttoned sleeve of her jacket. There was silence and it disappeared. She looked around for it for a while and then, satisfied it was out of sight, put it out of mind.

As did I. But then I thought “what if it’s crawled between the seats?”. I patted my wide trouser legs. Since I’d lost weight I’d had to secure them with a belt and they were quite roomy. I felt a sudden sharp pain just below my right knee. Rolling the trouser leg up I realised I’d been attacked and pulled out the sting. Ironically on the bus the day before, I had been reading about a guy who stung himself with various wasps and bees and then rated the pain. This felt like more than a 3/5. I patted my rolled-up trouser leg and couldn’t feel anything. For the next 10 minutes or so I squeezed the spot as fire ran through my blood. Some commuters looked, but no one asked if I was alright. I suddenly realised I may have rolled the damn thing up in my trousers. On unrolling it dropped out, dazed.

Having endured enough for one journey, and not wanting to spend another five minutes in the company of this vicious creature I staggered off and limped to work, unable to bend my leg. When I got there everyone crowded around and marvelled at the red golf-ball sized lump. I took two antihistamines, which luckily I had in my handbag, then soaked a couple of kitchen towels in vinegar and secured them to the area with sellotape. I replaced this throughout the day, ensuring the dressing was always damp. I then took two more antihistamines at lunch time. They don’t suit everyone though – a blogger I follow had a reaction to them, so always read the leaflet first.

People asked after my “wooden leg” and told me to “buzz off”. The next day it was fine, but I still had to take the bus as the weather was horrendous, with rain lashing down and thick fog. 

On Wednesday I felt so tired I felt jet-lagged. My throat was a little tender, so I drank honey and lemon in hot water. It was lovely, really soothing and antibacterial. On Friday I woke up at 5am as I was breathing out of one nostril. The infection had gone into my chest and I sounded like Darth Vader’s wife. My body was fighting for sleep but I had to get through the day.

It has been a long week catching bugs of both varieties. On Friday I had an unidentified insect crawling across my paper and a fly buzzed in my face at work, reminding me it was home time.

I commute on a bus packed with snotty school kids. They are then replaced by sneezing students and parents.

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As I’ve previously noted, public transport is great for strengthening the immune system, although as viruses constantly mutate there’s always something new around.

After doing an Olbas and tea tree oil steam inhalation this morning I feel less congested. I haven’t got a temperature which means it’s nothing to worry about. If I did it would mean my body was still trying to kill infection. I’m just expelling the aftermath of a white blood cell battle. But this weekend I have to clean the house for my parents. It’s going to be a wheeze…

Not only do I sound like Darth Vader, this person shows how you can get the look too. Just use a black towel for optimum results.

Not only do I sound like Darth Vader, this person shows how you can get the look too. Just use a black towel and dim the lights.

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Filed under Advice, Life of Lydia, Work

The Chaos that is Public Transport

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Recently we’ve read a lot about late trains in the news, but what about late buses? Surveys should be done on how often they are delayed. As a regular passenger I think I shall do my own.

At a time when Stagecoach recently reported an 8% rise in profits to £2.8 billion, how much of this is being filtered back to customers? Fares have been slowly rising for some time and travel times are worse than ever. I can’t believe my taxes line the pockets of the managers and yet nothing changes for us, the customers.

Today my bus didn’t arrive, resulting in what would have been a 25 minute wait. I had to take a taxi to get to the hospital in time. There was no complaints line given at the bus stop, I suppose because they would get so many. I had to spend 10 minutes in a telephone queue (which I am paying for, thank you Stagecoach) to see when the damn thing would actually arrive. I had to pay an extra £7 in cab fare due to the bus I was expecting not turning up at all.

Yesterday I ran for a tram and even though I got to it and pressed the door button, it just drove off. I was then charged a ridiculous fare on the next one for what was a 10 minute journey. Because it was now late, there were drunkards wandering around town, leading me to get harassed waiting for my connecting bus. A tall, lanky individual swaggered up to me with a beer can in hand and aggressively shouted at me for not talking to him, and then for walking away. Where was the next bus stop? At the other end of town. By the time I got there I only just made the bus. As soon as working hours pass in my city, buses descend into chaos, with one coming every half an hour for a busy route. Sometimes people are queuing across town.

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It is claimed a bus driver actually said this on a forum!

When I got the bus the day before that it took 40 minutes for a 20 minute journey because the bus driver, although 15 minutes late, took the usual two rest breaks. These stops are especially infuriating when you need to get work or just want to get home at the end of a long day. The driver turns off the engine and reads the paper or goes out for a smoke as time ticks by. I am not against drivers having a break, but twice in half an hour on a busy route is ridiculous. I have not had any trouble with female drivers however. They have been punctual and don’t seem to require rest breaks.

Stagecoach adverts on the back of the bus make me laugh: “Craig is looking at the car drivers and thinking how stressed they all look”. More like “Lydia is looking at the car drivers and seeing how relaxed they all look. Lydia is still on the bus getting late for work. Where are you?”

In comparison, First bus drivers don’t take any breaks at all in their schedule, yet still manage to turn up on time. Unfortunately you pay higher fares for this privilege and they come less often.

I am so fed up with having to take these excuses for public transport that I cannot wait to drive. I enjoy cycling because then I have control over journey time instead of helplessly being delayed while a driver chats into his mobile.

Customers must be wondering when profits are going to make a difference to their journey time or whether transport is just another black hole for them to pour their ridiculously high taxes into. I get taxed so much when I do extra work that there is no financial benefit, and then at the end of it I have to sit on a snail form of transport with a driver that stops for a break so often that it sometimes takes double the time necessary to get home. I’ve done the Euro Millions in a desperate attempt to win and free myself from this daily misery.

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A walk in the scenic Peak District

I went for a lovely walk around Castleton with a friend today. We started with ice cream and fish and chips (fish and peas for my slightly more healthy friend!) After working for 12 days straight it was a great way to unwind.

I couldn’t help feeding my unwanted food to a cat who excelled at begging. How could you not give a morsel to those eyes?

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Then we got lost on our “12 mile” walk and ended up doing 3 miles. I celebrated with a cream tea at the end. Apparently there are 838 calories in a fish and chip meal, and who knows how many in the other snacks. I probably consumed my calorie content for the day and only burnt off 250 but life is short (and will be shorter if I eat like this without doing exercise to compensate, hence why I will be off on my second MTB ladies ride tomorrow!).

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Cream tea – the staple diet of Yorkshire cafe goers

A Roman fort

A Roman fort

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All you need is a map, a route planned, some money for train fare/parking fees, walking boots, a light raincoat, a bottle of water and snacks. A phone with GPS also helps if you’re not so good at map-reading! Set off before lunch for optimum parking space. I’m so lucky to have this amazing countryside on my doorstep. If you’re taking a bus be warned, they stop about 5pm. If you live abroad and visit England, be sure to visit this part of Yorkshire if you can.

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August 18, 2013 · 8:47 pm