Earning the title of 'travel extremist'...

I was once described as a "travel extremist". This is a funny expression to me - it makes me sound way more bad ass than I really am. My CEO recommend a book to me that describes all the dangerous ways that exist to travel in the world from overcrowded ancient buses in India to overcrowded boats in West Africa - and the rate of death that go with them. He thought I would like it, and actually it was pretty good - but it certainly made me feel pretty wimpy after reading it...and I started to reflect back on some of my more terrifying travel transport stories.


The van in Peru that almost went off the road during a mudslide...the boat that declared S.O.S in the Sydney Harbour...Brazilian budget airlines...but one of the scariest and notably absent from the book...Greyhound - specifically the route between Baltimore and Philadelphia. We all agree to things that seem like a good idea at the time. For the record - at no point did I ever think this was a good idea, not onece, not ever. But I have a hard time saying no to some people and Jolie, one of my best friends for several years, is one of them.

And so it was with the full realization that this was going to end badly that we proceeded to the bus station, purchased a one way ticket and joined a long queue of people who did not appear to be suburban Canadian girls.

Similar to trains and planes, buses seem to run late as well. With the news of the delay, the accepted behavior seemed to be leaving a bag on the floor to save your "spot" in line and then having a seat. As the delay stretched on for over an hour, everyone seemed to have accepted this method and eventually a long stream of bags snaked through the terminal.

I hate line-cutters. I hold them one rung above serial killers...maybe even below as, for the most part, serial killers are quite clever. But line cutters are just thieves - space thieves. As the promise of a bus was coming, or maybe just to combat boredom, Jolie and I lined up with our possessions again. This gave us a front row seat as the drama started to unfold.

Despite the obvious 'random bag on the floor' system we had developed, one lady dragged her kid to a spot behind Jolie, where other bags were already stacked and then preceded to attempt to occupy the spot. That was not well accepted by others. Yelling and name calling swirled around us to the point where the Baltimore PD were called (maybe Baltimore has such a high crime rate because the police are breaking up line-cutting fights at the bus station). I will credit Jolie with saving me here as I was ready to jump into a rumble if one had ensued to defend the women who lost her spot in line - yes, I undoubtedly would have gotten my ass kicked.

But I guess all that training at the police academy was being put to good use and the situation was defused enough for all to board the few buses that had arrived. However now there were no seats together for Jolie and I...probably because of line cutters. I ended up sitting with a guy named Lamar who was struggling with which of his "baby mamas he should give child support to this month". (I swear I am making none of this up).

Lamar was a nice guy who had ridden this route several times while travelling between these two cities – I know this because anytime I drifted off to try and sleep and dream of a happier place, he would rouse me from my slumber to alert me to his concerns as to the drivers route choices. Turns out, Lamar was correct.

I knew that the Greyhound Bus station was in downtown Philadelphia. I could see downtown approaching…tall buildings, brightly lit…and then I saw it pass as we inexplicably drove on by. This of course had Lamar all up in arms. I was being optimistic – surely the bus driver knew the way to the bus station…this was probably just a shortcut. It wasn’t until we pulled off the freeway, into a dodgy area and the bus driver came over the loudspeaker and asked "Is anyone familiar with the layout of Philadelphia?" that I lost further faith in Greyhound. I literally got out of my seat and used my iPhone to give directions to a guy that was sitting next to the driver – he helped guide him through an area of Philadelphia that was colourfully commented by our fellow passengers; “THIS IS THE F*CKING HOOD”, “I have lived in Philadelphia my whole life and I have never been here” or my favourite,”I’m black and I wouldn’t even come to this neighbourhood”. Splendid.

Through dumb luck and not even slowing for the stop signs in the sketchy neighbourhood we reached the downtown bus station…and I bid a fond farewell to Lamar. Upon reflection I realized that I can earn that title of ‘travel extremist’… after a few more Greyhound rides.