Sometimes the bus is a luxury liner with colorful, padded seats and drapes to block the afternoon sun. Sometimes the seats are roomy with adequate space for long legs. Sometimes there are enough seats for all of us and all of the things we carry.
Other times, the seat seems to be unhinged from the floor and rocks wildly over the bumpy roads. The padding is worn off, and where plastic once padded metal arms, there is just the steel skeleton. I love to take the bus. I love the variety of the coaches and the people in them. I am always surprised.
I am not yet comfortable enough here to ride with my eyes closed let alone to dare to sleep; I don’t know the sounds, the length of the trip well enough. Although nearly everyone else around me practically snores, their heads “amen”ing over each bump, I have to keep a vigilant lookout for landmarks to make sure I don’t lose my way.
shewhodaresnothing 
Just wanted to share my blog with a like minded traveller. Hope you enjoy mine as much as I have enjoyed yours.
http://www.atruetalltale.wordpress.com
Heather, this is so beautifully written. I enjoyed this piece. Well, I enjoy all that you have to say, but this one really spoke to me.
Thank you, my friend.