Well not everything. Life on a bus with 20 boys not yet 14 deserves some explanation. Smells are a good place to start. They’re a rich mixture of Lynx deodorant, socks and last night’s dinner. The latter piped into the air in ring tones version of a Bach organ concerto.
Starting a day feels like small boys in flannel pyjamas and quilted dressing gowns. They yawn and talk in whispers, faces grumpy from disturbed sleep. The adults are awake and loud, urging reminders on everything from clothing to timetables.
The sun and attitude seem to rise at the same time. By mid morning the voices are loud and the comments cuttingly sharp. Blink and the roles could be reversed. The inmates are running the bus!
A movie holds silence. The Shawshank Redemption does its job for the mostly male audience.
Lunch on the road conjures dreams of Maccas but ends up with wholemeal bread sandwiches and fruit in a roadside picnic area. The parents are staging a comeback.
The hiss of brakes in front of the next school stirs the team to action. Bags tumble from over head racks, boots, ipods, phones, back packs struggle for attention. Parents are back in the driving seat and boys are herded from the bus in quick procession.
Bus doors fold back to welcome the victors or the vanquished. Neither matters. A game’s been played and there are great stories to tell. Heroes taunt villains and the jokers and jesters flit between the two.
The legends are written by the time the bus turns into home. And the boys spill off more interested in dinner and the night’s entertainment than anything else, let alone getting on board again tomorrow.
Just love the account of the bus (Bill Bryson you have competition)…a journey of a lifetime! What stories they will have to tell!