It's nearly been a week at Le Bureau and I'm still alive. I'm not actually going to write about work, as that's been known in the blogging world to end in tears. So, all that's left is how I get ready in the morning, my commute, lunch, my commute and drinks/dinner in the evening. Today you're getting the commute. Exciting stuff.
I walk out the door, kiss T goodbye (he goes in the other direction) stand on the pavement and wait. Eventually, the little green mini bus with the 10b cardboard sign in the window comes over the hill. I stick my arm out and fling myself in. Carefully avoiding knocking myself out on the door frame. I tap my Octopus card on the reader (5HKD - 70c USD), hunch over, walk to the nearest seat and sit in complete silence along with the other 10 people on their way to a hard day of pen pushing.
Complete silence isn't quite accurate as the drivers have a penchant for very loud, soppy Chinese music. So the Chinese equivalents of Alejandro Sanz, Whitney Houston and Lionel Richie echo round the tiny box of a bus as it stops and starts to let people in and out at completely random street corners. 15 minutes later, I squeak that it's my "stop" and topple out in front of Le Bureau. Again avoiding decapitation.
Of course, the bus doesn't actually go back home. It's a one way bus. Or it will be until I can find its return route. Or does it change its cardboard sign when it comes back? Crafty.
I walk out the door, kiss T goodbye (he goes in the other direction) stand on the pavement and wait. Eventually, the little green mini bus with the 10b cardboard sign in the window comes over the hill. I stick my arm out and fling myself in. Carefully avoiding knocking myself out on the door frame. I tap my Octopus card on the reader (5HKD - 70c USD), hunch over, walk to the nearest seat and sit in complete silence along with the other 10 people on their way to a hard day of pen pushing.
Complete silence isn't quite accurate as the drivers have a penchant for very loud, soppy Chinese music. So the Chinese equivalents of Alejandro Sanz, Whitney Houston and Lionel Richie echo round the tiny box of a bus as it stops and starts to let people in and out at completely random street corners. 15 minutes later, I squeak that it's my "stop" and topple out in front of Le Bureau. Again avoiding decapitation.
Of course, the bus doesn't actually go back home. It's a one way bus. Or it will be until I can find its return route. Or does it change its cardboard sign when it comes back? Crafty.
I'm glad to hear the minibuses are still green and white. I wonder where you live? I remember getting the minibus from City Hall up to the Peak after shopping in Central - a favourite pastime as a teenager.....can't remember which number it was, though. No Octopus card in those days, but it only cost fifty cents....
ReplyDeleteCheap and cheerful! I live on Caine Road, just above Soho and go over to Pokfulam for work. So, I have a wonderfully scenic ride...when I'm actually in Hong Kong!
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