Let me tell the story of getting round Manchester from my point of view. Now, every morning across the road from Owens Park there is a mass of students being herded by balding men into what are essentially large, moving metal cages. It is within these grotty double-decked mammoths that one is forced into getting up close and personal with every irksome stereotype that university has to offer.
You can gaze upon the gormless faces of the supposed future generation of intellectuals, smell the sour body odour of greasy computer scientists, struggle past huge folders owned by terrible and talentless ‘artists’ and treat your ears to the banality of countless self-important humanities students. There is such a consistent and contrasting mix of student breeds, you can almost certainly be assured that someone on board will grate your cheddar.
You don’t just have to look inside the bus. Gaze out into the road and you can observe cyclists weaving in and out of traffic – without helmets or lights of course. Maybe they’re hoping that all their tassels, horns and other pointless trinkets absorb some of the impact of a head on collision with seven tonnes of steel. As they park outside their lecture theatre, grabbing a latte, being so carefree and casual, I’m sure they relish in feeling quintessentially European – well, at least until a nice man with an on/off relationship with the law decides he’s going to borrow their bike indefinitely.
Let’s not forget the pedestrians. Do you know why the student crossed the road? Because they were seemingly completely unaware of the difference between street and pavement. Is it that they are so self-indulged in their own thoughts that they expect any oncoming traffic to magically halt and allow for a safe passage to their destination? I’m going to stop preaching, because I don’t really care about the safety or wellbeing of people who choose to do such foolish things, it’s a free country, so they can do as they wish. Just know that I’m going to be pretty cheesed off when the bus I’m on gets delayed because there’s an undergraduate pancake beneath the front tyre.
So yes, travelling around the city is stressful, but unfortunately a fact of life is that sometimes to get to wherever you want to be you’ve got to put up with the complete idiocy around you.
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