MEGABUS MASSACRE

I write this on an overcrowded Megabus, sat wedged in a corner while a rude woman loudly and proudly belches - while an equally as rude man plays Bollywood music on his iPhone. Being typically British, I dismiss this and say nothing. Probably like this afternoon where I was boarding the train at Charing Cross while a diva wannabe drama student pirouetted elegantly around me - I imagine warming down from his afternoon rehearsal of trying to make London's West End version of Glee. Its fair to say that while I was being rudely leapfrogged around, my face resembled that of a grumpy old woman off BBC 2. I put it down to being too Yorkshire for my own good.

While you probably think this post is a rant and ramble about London, please remember I left Sheffield at 6am and don't look set to return back in good old Yorkshire until 10pm. All this happened while wearing an agonising - yet cheap - pair of stupid heels. To put the cherry on top of the big fat cake, it is 8pm and I am still being tortured by the sheer delights of the Megabus. 

I suppose the point of this blog post is to tell you wholeheartedly - don't get the Megabus! Ok - I lie - it started out being a London review but my tiredness and hunger selfishly took over this article.

Truth is the Megabus was £6 one way for which I have absolutely no right to complain. You probably shouldn't get me started on train ticket prices in this monster evening grump of mine. Although, I do at times wonder how much of my life I actually spend on the rails, let alone the bank loan I have to take out to use them regularly! Maybe I should get my own bed on board for being one dedicated customer. Actually, while were on the topic my cozy bedside lamp would blend in perfectly too.

I forget the point of this article other than to say you get what you pay for with the Megabuses. As I am indeed a poor peasant, I can't knock them. However, to all the crisp crunchers, loud phone talkers and the impolite guy sat next to me eating salted peanuts - when I for one am starving (how selfish) - please feel free to stop torturing me!

It's a good job the cool Cockney coach driver gave me a little giggle. I thoroughly enjoyed his little rampage, 'OI, you who's just skipped the front of the coach queue! Get to the back! We have a Great British tradition of not liking you queue cutters here in London!' He's on the same wave length of grumpy as me. I like him. Thumbs up to the driver!

(P.S I love London really, look at the pretty pictures I took!)