Bus stop, wet day, she’s there, I say ‘Please, share my umbrella’
The Hollies (1966)
There’s a romance in catching the bus, into town, down to the sea, wherever it takes.
When a ‘stop’ looks this good and ramshackle, I’m definitely up for waiting for the standard two in a row. Of course I am being a little harsh here in both respects, as the sturdiness of this woven shelter negates any need to double down with a brolly and the timetable usually runs to time, or so I’m led to believe. This stop has seen a few harsh winters, and rather cleverly - I’d like to think by design - has its back to the north wind, protecting all those who crane their necks to the sound of the next passing transport.
What enchants for me is the nod to its surroundings. Town stops might gain the utilitarian look, but its in the corners of the countryside that sees a real shift in styles of rest stops for the onward traveler.