Go Greyhound? An Adventure in Travel

Wow. I'm not sure what to say but wow. I already knew you'd get crazies on public transit in a city, having commuted by bus in the SLC area to school for a while, but until this past week, I'd never taken a long trip via a major bus line.

It was... interesting. Not as nutty as a city bus, but not as tranquil and polite as a plane ride. The seats got uncomfortable after awhile, especially on the way back (all buses are not created equal, the one on the way home was clearly older and falling into disrepair in the passenger area) where I only discovered just how mangled my seat was AFTER sitting on it for 4 or 5 hours. It was ripped and the soft surface fabric had somehow turned into a hard sheet (like it had glue dumped on it to harden or something).

The Teenboy and I went up to Seattle one afternoon and back the next (which probably also contributed to the discomfort of the ride home).

On the way up to Seattle, we had a parole jumper on board. He had, apparently, been told his approval to go out-of-state would be renewed when he checked in, and only once in Oregon did he find out they were NOT, in fact, going to give him travel approval. So he skipped his check-in with his parole officer, and was headed to South Dakota. He intends to stay there and pay off some debts(?) and turn himself in after some girl has her baby. How do I know all this? He talked about it loud and long on his cell phone to a few different people. Ayep. While he was at it, he should have put a sign over his head or worn a t-shirt saying "I'm ditching parole!"

The Seattle bus terminal was a pit. (The one in Portland was the nicest of the three we got to see... it was where we had our layover) Outside though, was beautiful. Before we headed home, we had a wait, and discovered they charged $2 for sodas... way too pricy. Some nutty girl was wandering in and out of the bus station, talking to people at random and occasionally bursting into song. She told us where to find a small local market, less than a block away, where we bought sodas for less. Walking there, I realized this part of the city looked rather familiar, so I walked up a bit further (the rest of the block) and determined that we were only a couple blocks from the Seattle Convention Center and the hotel where I stayed for Sakura-con a couple years ago. Neat!

The bus back didn't load until more than 15 min after our scheduled departure time, and then sat for awhile more before getting on the road. During this time, a guy across the aisle banged his head against the window glass repeatedly. The woman sitting behind him exchanged a Look with me, picked up her bag, and moved to sit behind us instead. I don't blame her. I'd have done the same. There was a random nut talking to himself (or to other passengers who weren't talking to him) out loud as we drove along in the dark in Washington. Every stop from Seattle to Portland, a cluster of people de-bused to smoke, then got back on, further delaying us.

In Portland we changed buses and drivers and picked up a group of travellers who seemed to regard the Greyhound as a party bus. They shouted and laughed and carried on for a while. When we reached our stop, the party busers all got off to smoke, and as we walked away, I heard the driver tell them "I never said anyone could get off. Every stop is NOT a cigarrette break." I wish our other driver had the spine/balls to do that.

We found out the bus terminal closes at night, and made a pit stop at a nearby gas station/convenience store, then drove home.

It was quite an experience, for sure, and I can only wonder what lies in store next week on Greyhound to Seattle II: The Sequel.