In 28th October 2005 Mette and I were fortunate to travel on the old Routemaster Number 38 - the final evening that it ran.
Better than that, for the occasion many of the older buses were out of the garage and running one last time. Ours was circa 1960s, I'd say.
The strangeness, the cultural memory of the dimmer upstairs lights, chair fabrics and handrails – all pleasurable details.
The once-mundane made exotic.
The ticket collectors were all in melancholy/jolly mood and issuing tickets for free.
Then came the Day of the Dumb; the 'bendybuses' – their farting and whinnying noises cutting through the dead of night near my flat. Years later - having facilitated millions of pounds of lost revenue in dodged fares - these red white elephants are gone and the 38 route will be the first to usher in Boris Johnson's latest woozy, post-lunch nap dream of London travel: the Routemaster Hybrid.
Whatever.
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