My stories for you to see.

Alright, let me kick things off by saying that yes, it is an extremely hot day here in Brisbane. Very, very hot. It was so hot, I wore shorts instead of my usual jeans. Yes, it was THAT hot. But I digress.

If people were to describe me in one word, they would probably say stuff like antisocial, weird, outcast, loner…….you get the idea. But one word that probably would also come to mind would be afraid to try new things. Well, that’s not one word, but work with me here. I feel most comfortable at home, and dislike coming out of my comfort zone. Just ask my friends the lengths they went to to get me to go to a RAVE party. They practically had to pry my hands off the doorframe. But that’s another story.

(Blindingly bright strobe lights, ear-shatteringly loud music, rowdy teenagers – I mean, who WOULDN’T want to go to a RAVE?)

So, it was a pretty big thing for me to be taking….wait for it….Australian Public Transport. Yes, that’s right – after hours of endless wheedling and threatening by my family, I finally agreed (albeit reluctantly) to take the bus to Uni this morning. Oh joy of joys. And boy, did I do my homework. Google search, route planning…..etc, etc. I was ready.

I woke up at 8.30am this morning (and surprisingly, did NOT feel like P Diddy) as I had a tutorial at 10am. I had planned it down to the wire – the bus was to come at 9.27, and arrive at uni 9.50. Perfect.

With the confidence of a seasoned veteran, I strode off to the bus stop to wait for the bus with my dad. With the naivety of a child, I deliberately arrived early, at 9.10am.I was perfectly content to wait for my bus (no. 432) for the seventeen minutes. And that’s what I did. I waited.

(“Perhaps if I wait here a little while longer, the bus will come!”)

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited……

You get the idea. By the time 9.30 rolled around, my bus still hadn’t arrived. 9.35, and I was annoyed. Since it takes around 20 minutes to get to uni, and about 15 minutes to find my classroom (hey, I’m new!), I was worried. It didn’t help that plenty of buses drove by in quick succession, all NOT the bus I wanted. 412, 444, 433….it was almost like the bus drivers wanted to make me annoyed.

Thankfully, my dad was still there, and together with my mum, they drove me to uni, and I arrived with 5 minutes to spare. Cars: 1, Buses: 0.

So kids, what have we learnt today?

1. Taking the bus in Australia is like taking the Underground in London, and it’s also like taking any form of transport in Malaysia. Don’t.
2. When the bus timetable says “…account for buses arriving slightly late…”, add about 14 years to the late side.
3. Bus services have it out for students who are running late. The right bus won’t come, and other, incorrect buses will pass by just to make him get his hopes up.
4. Parents are extremely important for driving you around, especially if you don’t have your  license. Mum, Dad, I love you guys.

The last point is really true. Without them, I would have had to run all the way to uni. And you know how horrible I look when I run in shorts….

[UPDATE]: I tried to take the bus the next day – and this time, it came so early, I nearly missed it. And the ride was so bumpy, I nearly got sick. Plus, it took forever.

But then again, that’s nothing compared to how bad the Malaysian bus service is….

Do YOU have a scary bus story? Tell us right here by leaving a comment!