Buses and patience

They rarely go together when you're an angst ridden pensioner in another country but the sign of the relief driver is always to be cherished.

Spare a thought for the puir wee dude who will get pelters for being late when he's had to wait himself. Not only will the passengers hear explain that it's not 08:30 but further along the route sweaty pilgrims will be sitting at stops wondering WTF is going on.

It's really quite simple as any bus from Barcelona is likely to gain or lose time in disparate proportions. Try explaining that in a language you are less proficient in, like mathematics I hear you laugh.

I prefer to take these moments to write gibberish. A language in which I am proficient. I will stop when the bus arrives and I jump in panic to make sure I get on.

I'll fumble for my online ticket that I bought with the Alsa app only to realise I'm offline now and I haven't saved it. Well at least I'm not trying to get into a Springsteen or Beyonce gig and crashing the network.

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