Beetlejuice on the W1 to Weston-super-Mare
You will be aware that these past months have been very difficult with Tina suffering from a collapsed lung. The complexity of her illness meant that Weston General Hospital could not cope with its management and she had to be transferred to the thoracic unit at the Bristol Royal Infirmary. Now parking in Bristol is a nightmare so that is why I visited Tina by taking the bus for two weeks and that is how I came to meet Beetlejuice [or his double!] on a Bristol omnibus.
When I told Tina and Velia, our daughter, that I would be using the bus to go to/from Bristol they were distinctly nervous. Their thought was 'Dad let loose on a bus, late evening, weekends, OMG not a good scene!' If you read my blog "Cut of their Jib" then you will see why they were nervous. They made me almost take an oath not to even look at scallywags, lads with baseball hats on back to front, potential wife beaters, persons with droopy jeans, and other persons of that ilk. So I used the two buses, the X1 and W1 running from the seafront in Weston-super-Mare to Bristol Bus Station off the Centre and just over half a mile down the hill from the BRI hospital. The W1 bus was the more frequent service taking about an hour and fifteen minutes to meander across the North Somerset villages of Long Ashton, Backwell, Cleeve, Yatton, Congresbury, West Wick, Worle, and finally the Pier. There's the scene then, the morning run no problem but the evening run back leaving Bristol at nine then you have the time all the scallywags and numpties come forth and cause the wife and daughter worry.
One evening I have visited Tina in Ward 700 and walked down the hill to catch the nine o'clock W1 bus. I am queuing with about ten people when Beetlejuice appears before me. Actually I say "Beetlejuice" [as in the movie] because that is closest resemblance that I can think of but actually he was worse. This guy has spiky purple hair, he is tattooed facially completely, he has more hardware on his face than you could imagine, he's dressed like a GI from the Vietnam war, and he has a pit bull terrier on the end of a piece of rope!
He says "Excuse me, does this bus go to Worle, Guv?" Now, in my book, this character has been civil and asked a normal question. The civility continues and I agree to advise him when the bus gets to a point that he can walk to Worle High Street. The other passengers are looking on in open mouthed amazement - we are so very far apart in appearance etc.I find this fearsome looking dog to be daft and gentle and it sits on my foot and looks adoringly at me! Beetlejuice then tells me he collects militaria from second hand shops and asks about Worle etc. We board the bus, the handy looking Polish driver, takes the fares etc and Beetlejuice goes up stairs and we are underway. At Hotwells a couple more buddies board, pay the driver, and join Beetlejuice upstairs; they are odd, but, compared to Beetlejuice, they look normal. The journey is uneventful until we get to Yatton, a delightful village that used to be the end of the Strawberry Line from Cheddar.
One of the buddies clatters down the stairs and asks the Polish driver if they can disembark at the entrance to the village, have a cigarette, and re-board the bus as it completes a circuit and heads towards Congresbury. The driver says AOK as it is common practice. They all clatter downstairs to do that, Beetlejuice gives me the lead and the dog saying "Guv, please mind the dog?" and joins his mates. The dog mournfully sits on my foot, looks at me with a hangdog expression and I swear almost says "Sorry". You just cannot help liking this daft dog. We go out through the village to the cement works and back; the numpties have all had their smoke and get back onward the bus. Beetlejuice thanks me, the dog gives me one last sorrowful look and we are on our way.
As we reach Worle and approach Station Road I press the bell and call out up the stairs. The bus stops, they all disembark each cheerfully calls out "Thanks Guv, goodnight," And Beetlejuice is away. I tell you if you met him on a dark night emerging from the mist that you would have a heart attack! But consider this, he had a dog that is reputedly savage and dangerous, but his dog could well have been a little boy's dog. It was a gentle creature.
When I told Tina and Velia, our daughter, that I would be using the bus to go to/from Bristol they were distinctly nervous. Their thought was 'Dad let loose on a bus, late evening, weekends, OMG not a good scene!' If you read my blog "Cut of their Jib" then you will see why they were nervous. They made me almost take an oath not to even look at scallywags, lads with baseball hats on back to front, potential wife beaters, persons with droopy jeans, and other persons of that ilk. So I used the two buses, the X1 and W1 running from the seafront in Weston-super-Mare to Bristol Bus Station off the Centre and just over half a mile down the hill from the BRI hospital. The W1 bus was the more frequent service taking about an hour and fifteen minutes to meander across the North Somerset villages of Long Ashton, Backwell, Cleeve, Yatton, Congresbury, West Wick, Worle, and finally the Pier. There's the scene then, the morning run no problem but the evening run back leaving Bristol at nine then you have the time all the scallywags and numpties come forth and cause the wife and daughter worry.
One evening I have visited Tina in Ward 700 and walked down the hill to catch the nine o'clock W1 bus. I am queuing with about ten people when Beetlejuice appears before me. Actually I say "Beetlejuice" [as in the movie] because that is closest resemblance that I can think of but actually he was worse. This guy has spiky purple hair, he is tattooed facially completely, he has more hardware on his face than you could imagine, he's dressed like a GI from the Vietnam war, and he has a pit bull terrier on the end of a piece of rope!
He says "Excuse me, does this bus go to Worle, Guv?" Now, in my book, this character has been civil and asked a normal question. The civility continues and I agree to advise him when the bus gets to a point that he can walk to Worle High Street. The other passengers are looking on in open mouthed amazement - we are so very far apart in appearance etc.I find this fearsome looking dog to be daft and gentle and it sits on my foot and looks adoringly at me! Beetlejuice then tells me he collects militaria from second hand shops and asks about Worle etc. We board the bus, the handy looking Polish driver, takes the fares etc and Beetlejuice goes up stairs and we are underway. At Hotwells a couple more buddies board, pay the driver, and join Beetlejuice upstairs; they are odd, but, compared to Beetlejuice, they look normal. The journey is uneventful until we get to Yatton, a delightful village that used to be the end of the Strawberry Line from Cheddar.
One of the buddies clatters down the stairs and asks the Polish driver if they can disembark at the entrance to the village, have a cigarette, and re-board the bus as it completes a circuit and heads towards Congresbury. The driver says AOK as it is common practice. They all clatter downstairs to do that, Beetlejuice gives me the lead and the dog saying "Guv, please mind the dog?" and joins his mates. The dog mournfully sits on my foot, looks at me with a hangdog expression and I swear almost says "Sorry". You just cannot help liking this daft dog. We go out through the village to the cement works and back; the numpties have all had their smoke and get back onward the bus. Beetlejuice thanks me, the dog gives me one last sorrowful look and we are on our way.
As we reach Worle and approach Station Road I press the bell and call out up the stairs. The bus stops, they all disembark each cheerfully calls out "Thanks Guv, goodnight," And Beetlejuice is away. I tell you if you met him on a dark night emerging from the mist that you would have a heart attack! But consider this, he had a dog that is reputedly savage and dangerous, but his dog could well have been a little boy's dog. It was a gentle creature.
Comments