City Bus Driver

Some passengers board a bus. Others adopt it. One of my regulars has convinced me they're not entirely human, but rather a highly evolved house cat in a jacket. Some punters operate on an entirely different level. Take one of my regulars. Lovely soul. Polite. Quiet. Never any bother. But I'm increasingly convinced they're actually a domesticated cat. Every morning they climb aboard, tap on with the same gentle routine and offer a soft, almost musical, "Thank you, driver." Now, maybe it's the early starts. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe years of inhaling diesel fumes have finally loosened a few screws. But I swear they're purring. Not loudly, mind. Nothing obvious. Just the faintest suggestion of a contented little rumble as they shuffle past the cab. "Mrrrp." Classic cat behaviour. They always sit downstairs. Always. Yet they never sit in the same seat twice. No, no. That would be far too straightforward. First comes the inspection. Like some fel...

The summer heat has arrived, and with it comes strange sights. Driving through the city exposes you to humanity at its best, worst, and occasionally flattest. Today, I witnessed what may well be the first official casualty of Edinburgh's latest heat wave. The summer heat has finally landed in Edinburgh, and as every bus driver knows, once the temperature climbs above "pleasant", the city starts behaving differently. Driving in the city exposes you to all sorts. Tempers shorten. Shirts disappear. Folk suddenly decide that crossing the road without looking is an acceptable life choice because, apparently, heatstroke doubles as a traffic management strategy. Today, however, I witnessed what I can only describe as the first casualty of the recent heat wave. As I approached one of the city's many bus stops that have mysteriously evolved into unofficial loading bays, I spotted a familiar sight: a delivery lorry parked squarely in the stop while its driver carried out a drop...

Some passengers get on, pay their fare and sit down. Others treat the bus like they're viewing a flat to rent. This gentleman managed to turn a five-minute journey into a full-scale investigation into the climate of public transport. We've had one of those strange hot spells in Edinburgh where the entire city loses its mind. The folk who spend eleven months of the year complaining about the cold suddenly discover they're allergic to sunshine. Every second person is carrying a fan, every supermarket has sold out of ice lollies, and every bus driver has developed the complexion of a boiled lobster. Into this tropical paradise steps today's star attraction. The doors open and on he comes, dressed as if he was heading to a hill walk in the Cairngorms in February. Heavy jacket. Thick trousers. The sort of outfit that says, "I don't trust the weather, even in August." He looks at me and says, "Can you wait five seconds while I go upstairs and see how hot it...