When I was 17 I took a 26 hour bus journey to Tuscany on a school choir tour. I remember the giggling of bacardi breezer drunk teenagers, the inescapable smell of the dreaded coach toilet and the fight for the back seat for optimal sleeping position. 10 years later I find myself boarding a 27 hour bus journey to Milan and as it turns out not much has changed… it has just aged.
The snoring beer smelling man in front of me, the giggling kids trying to wake him and the smell of the feared toilet remain. But for £50 (and a two suitcase allowance) I am oh so happy to plug in the earphones and settle down for the night.
Boarding an overnight bus journey is unlike any other form of public transport. Airports are made up of travellers getting from A to B. There are unspoken rules we all adhere to when flying – you don’t speak to each other, you certainly don’t share your food and eye contact is minimal. In fact, you tend to eye your fellow passengers with a certain degree of suspicion. Trains are equally antisocial. They are there to get you to your destination. Conversation is kept to abrupt ‘May I sit here’ grunts and gestures until the inevitable train delay when you are suddenly all brothers in arms fighting the same evil.
Long bus journeys are different. Lump it or loathe it you will spend a significant amount of time in a confined space with this array of individuals and there really is no escape.
It is a bizarre forced solidarity which was summed up perfectly by a brave Parisian lady confronting a loud mouthed Londoner within the first two hours of my journey. The latter was clearly having a life drama of such monumental excitement that even 15 rows away I felt her palpable burning hatred towards David, the ex. The Parisian calmly sidled up to her and in the tense 30 second exchange that followed one sentence stuck out; ‘We’re all in this together, we need to all work together to get through this’. Perhaps overly dramatic for a bus ride to Italy but the sentiment sticks. Surviving an overnight bus journey is a team effort. One weak (stinky/loud/rude) member and the whole group suffers.
The Londoner did remain quiet, the Brits – hiding behind their books all sighed with relief and everyone returned to their polite conversation. From then on we were an unusual but content family. We nervously laughed together when we thought our bus driver had misjudged a tight turn, we applauded Carrie, our resident Argentine on the success of surviving a 30 minute interrogation by Suisse border control and mourned the loss of Isan who mysteriously disappeared after an intense conversation with Italian police.
We took a few losses along the way but the majority reached their intended destination. Most picking up their luggage with a short wave goodbye to their seat buddy before turning and heading back into the real world… which believe me is no easy task. After 27 hours of no shower, numb legs and broken sleep (thanks border patrol!) I arrived in Milan, Lampugnano. The half hour tube journey in front of me was spent hiding my dirty face from the clean well-dressed Milanese and trying (and failing) to stare down their pitying looks. I tried to glare back with a look of stoic contentment about my dishevelled form – instead I imagine my whole appearance (and aroma) gave off a somewhat different impression. One only my bus comrades could understand, those who stood next to me at 4am in the middle of the Alpes being searched by border control. ‘You don’t know man, you weren’t there.’
Read on for my top 5 tips on How to survive an overnight bus!
If you haven’t been put off then Europe is your oyster Eurolines coaches (http://www.eurolines.co.uk/). Check the Special offers and you can find yourself on a £5 bus to Amsterdam or a Funfare to Dublin for £19 with almost unlimited luggage (shopping) allowance – if you’re short on money and long on time it could be an extra adventure.
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