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My last London bus trip for the year

“The most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what’s in between.” Norton Juster, The Phantom Tolbooth

This bus ride was not long one. It took me from Shoreditch back to St Paul’s. We wound our way past the big-atriumed office blocks, and the pavements filling up with City workers as the light faded into dark.

On this trip it was the vast and sparsely occupied ground floors – the atria – that caught my attention. The reason for these huge, apparently under utilised spaces, has never been clear to me, unless their real purpose is just to let everyone know how important they are.

Anyway, I had a window seat on the top floor of the bus, and was able to admire these entrances from above. In one I saw an Aston Martin racing car looking a little nonplussed at being there, and then, a few doors down, I saw the enormous aquarium in the photograph above. The scale of the aquarium, the blue of it, and the sight of the fish swimming to and fro, took me completely by surprise. It also took the shine off some of the Christmas trees that came next. Some were gleaming in baubles and lights, others were more restrained, and a few even deigned to step outside their buildings to cheer up the passers by. But … however hard the trees tried, they never quite achieved the same splash as the fish, at least not in my list of favourites.

As for any of them noticing us, I don’t think they did. We passed by unremarked. Just another red bus, windows bright and steamy, rumbling on its way.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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On a bus moving slowly through a busy London

“Kids believe in Santa; adults believe in childhood.” Cate Kennedy, Dark Roots

I knew London would be busy, but I did not expect it to be as busy as shown to me by the 139 bus, on diversion around Trafalgar Square to Oxford Street. And I did not expect to see so many Santas.

Halfway through the journey, I was busy wondering if the bus would ever be able to make its way through the stream of shoppers on a pedestrian crossing, when I saw the junction to our left crowded in red. I looked again. They were Santas. As I reached for my camera the bus began to inch, and then to accelerate forward. The result was the blurred picture above, confirmation at least of what I thought I’d seen. I’ve no idea where these Santas were headed, or where they’d been.

At last the bus made it to Oxford Street and I jumped off. By this time I was late, and the pavements were packed. They were also very relaxed. Too relaxed. They were having a good time, meandering like slow rivers, ferrying family groups and their packages to and fro. I dodged and huffed, trying to make my way around and through the window shoppers, and out-and-abouters, as best I could, praying hard that I wouldn’t get run over by a flourescent pedicab. Somehow I didn’t. Even more miraculously, I arrived where I had to … and just in time.

On my way back I decided to cram on to the Underground. That was a squished experience, but it did take about one fifth of the time it had taken the bus to reach the same point. The downside was there were no Christmas lights, and there was no sign of any Santas.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023