"Men!"
What about what happened to me last week? I went to Gedling on the edge of Nottingham (UK) to do a filmed interview - for research into the working relationships of scrutiny members and officers in local government. My camera and kit were in my bike’s pannier. I’d checked my route – cycle, train, cycle, bus – on the website Transport Direct which works out an A to B route that includes walking, even calculating a journey's CO2 use. In Upper Parliament Street where I’d cycled from the station, I found a number 7 bus parked, and started to fold my bicycle to board it, when the driver, in a harsh voice - so it sounded to me - said “You can’t put that bike on my bus". The bus contained two people and had spaces for baby buggies and a wheelchair. I continued folding, hoping he’d see my Brompton’s portability. The driver must have read this as evidence of my intention to bypass his prohibition. He continued to repeat himself in the most hortatory tone. This sort of thing is so rare in my experience. I suggested he phone his company. He got out his mobile and after a moment's chat on the phone I saw him nod and heard him mutter "at driver’s discretion". He turned to me and, with what I perhaps imagined was a gleam of satisfaction, said “Right! I’m exercising my discretion and you aren't putting that bike on my bus”.
I had a map and set out to cycle the three miles or so to Gedling. As I climbed the hill out of the city, on the Mansfield Road, I encountered the same unhelpful driver in his red bus halted at a red light at a T-junction. While 'his' bus was stopped I took out my camera and filmed the driver through his windscreen. He got on his mobile phone and called the police. “I'm being harassed by a passenger” he said. ‘Passenger? I wish I was' I thought. The police soon arrived in a little car with a twirling blue light. One officer spoke to me; the other to the driver. They conferred, took details and said it was a 'civil matter' and nothing to do with them. We parted.
Later I phoned the bus company and spoke to a genial person who apologised on behalf of the company with a remark about how some drivers in their concern for passengers could become 'proprietorial about their vehicles'. I was pacified. While the altercation had been going on that morning a delayed woman passenger had decided to walk. As she alighted I apologised. She shrugged encompassingly and said "men!'
"Men!"
What about what happened to me last week? I went to Gedling on the edge of Nottingham (UK) to do a filmed interview - for research into the working relationships of scrutiny members and officers in local government. My camera and kit were in my bike’s pannier. I’d checked my route – cycle, train, cycle, bus – on the website Transport Direct which works out an A to B route that includes walking, even calculating a journey's CO2 use. In Upper Parliament Street where I’d cycled from the station, I found a number 7 bus parked, and started to fold my bicycle to board it, when the driver, in a harsh voice - so it sounded to me - said “You can’t put that bike on my bus". The bus contained two people and had spaces for baby buggies and a wheelchair. I continued folding, hoping he’d see my Brompton’s portability. The driver must have read this as evidence of my intention to bypass his prohibition. He continued to repeat himself in the most hortatory tone. This sort of thing is so rare in my experience. I suggested he phone his company. He got out his mobile and after a moment's chat on the phone I saw him nod and heard him mutter "at driver’s discretion". He turned to me and, with what I perhaps imagined was a gleam of satisfaction, said “Right! I’m exercising my discretion and you aren't putting that bike on my bus”.
I had a map and set out to cycle the three miles or so to Gedling. As I climbed the hill out of the city, on the Mansfield Road, I encountered the same unhelpful driver in his red bus halted at a red light at a T-junction. While 'his' bus was stopped I took out my camera and filmed the driver through his windscreen. He got on his mobile phone and called the police. “I'm being harassed by a passenger” he said. ‘Passenger? I wish I was' I thought. The police soon arrived in a little car with a twirling blue light. One officer spoke to me; the other to the driver. They conferred, took details and said it was a 'civil matter' and nothing to do with them. We parted.
Later I phoned the bus company and spoke to a genial person who apologised on behalf of the company with a remark about how some drivers in their concern for passengers could become 'proprietorial about their vehicles'. I was pacified. While the altercation had been going on that morning a delayed woman passenger had decided to walk. As she alighted I apologised. She shrugged encompassingly and said "men!'