The Greyhound Diaries
Mankind is capable of incredible feats of endurance. Running marathons across deserts... swimming through shark-infested oceans... and even watching an entire Jason Statham film. But very few people have the mental strength, discipline and willpower required to survive a three-day journey on a Greyhound bus.
If you aren’t familiar with this iconic mode of North American travel, then imagine the scene:
You’re sat in a space so cramped you can’t move your legs. Next to you, making small talk for the whole journey, is the banjo player from Deliverance. And finally, from a squalid chemical toilet that your fellow passengers are, almost unbelievably, queuing up to use the beguiling scent of urine is filling the cabin. Basically, Greyhound makes the UK’s Megabus service seem like the Orient Express.
But of course, it's cheap. And, as an ‘impoverished’ backpacker looking to get from Vancouver on Canada's west coast to Toronto in the east, the prospect of saving a few hundred bucks on a flight (ignoring losing three days of my life) was irresistible.
What follows is a harrowing, blow-by-blow account of 72 hours spent on a Greyhound bus.
Monday
Bus 1 - Vancouver to Kamloops
1855: Having successfully negotiated hostile, monosyllabic woman at the ticket counter (to be fair, these are crucial skills for anyone seeking to sustain a career in a public-facing roles), I'm on board the bus and ready to go. Window seat secured, MP3 player (yes, they existed and we used them) charged, thrift store books stockpiled and $1 travel pillow to hand. Just 2754 miles lie ahead and spirits are high. There's something comforting about a long journey in that, once underway, there's nothing else you can do but wait it out. Your short-term existence is taken care of. Which I find often leads to a relaxed, almost spiritual state of mind.
1859: Someone sits next to me despite PLENTY of seats being available.
1900: Depart VANCOUVER, the shimmering North Shore mountains receding into the distance as we traverse the sprawling suburbs.
1905: The person in front of me puts their seat so far back the headrest is almost touching my face.
1910: A grown man has his music on so loud I can make out Avril Lavigne six rows away.
1915: Ignoring these ubiquitous public transport irritations, I immerse myself in Book No.1: The Mask of Fu Manchu.
2030: Dinner stop in CHILLIWACK. The only option is Tim Hortons, which, for the non-Canadians, is a sort of Starbucks/Subway hybrid. No matter where you are in Canada, you're never more than 10 metres away from a Timmy's.
2100: A burning smell fills the bus, people start coughing, and the driver pulls over.
2200: After a painful inactive hour, at the side of the road, the driver announces we’re returning to the previous stop – a far from ideal start to an already epic journey.
2230: At the previous stop, we all pile on to a different but already-busy bus that becomes filled to capacity. I sit next to an intimidating tracksuit-clad youth but it’s a relief to be moving forward again.
Bus 2 - Chilliwack to Kamloops
2255: My seat ‘buddy’ makes a loud phone call aggressively dropping the F-Bomb loudly at least 25+ times. I do my best to radiate a simultaneous harmless-but-don’t-mess-with-me persona.
Tuesday
0100: Arrive at KAMLOOPS where a connecting bus has been forced to wait for us. Upon boarding I’m met with looks of hostility from the current passengers. They’re thinking: A) Thanks for holding us up, and B) You’re not sitting next to me buddy. I’m forced to wake up a sleeping girl sprawled over both seats who doesn’t react well. This bus also appears to be vintage model and has shocking legroom. There’s a footrest that you either use and sit in a fetal position or don’t use and it digs into your shins like barbed wire.
Bus 3 - Kamloops to Calgary
0115: On the road again - my assumption that the entire cross-country trip would use just one, single bus was clearly ridiculous and I'm now aware the journey consists of numerous connecting legs. Will I manage to negotiate that many vehicle changes? More precisely, will my bag, in the hands of the good people of Greyhound, manage to negotiate that many vehicle changes? Also, I'm now stuck in the same set of clothes for three days. Bad news for me. Bad news for any 'seat mates'.
0120: Clang! The bus hits something. The driver stops and heads out into the dark. Collectively we hold our breath. He returns offering a nonchalant "Just a post. They’re good these old buses" and we continue into the night. For a brief second, I begin to contemplate how we managed to hit a post but some things you just have to forget about.
0200-0500: No sleep - people are visiting the ‘restroom’ like it’s a free bar. The stench of piss fills the bus. What are these people thinking? Surely, you would only use a bus toilet if absolutely necessary? There's usually a brief stop every couple of hours so, with a modicum of self-control, there’s really no need to go.
0530: Finish The Mask of Fu Manchu. Enthralled by the superior intellect of criminal mastermind Fu.
0600: We cut through the Canadian Rockies at sunrise. The ethereal light illuminating the vivid swathes of pristine snow and towering mountains which emerge from dense black forests. Most of my fellow passengers don't seem to even notice.
0700: Breakfast: a box of Nerds.
1000: Arrive in CALGARY - terrible bus station. Facilities on offer comprise a teddy picker arcade machine and a tired cafeteria/diner whose mostly-fried produce looks of sub-fairground standard. Briefly contemplate purchasing some beef jerky but choose to starve.
Bus 4 - Calgary to Winnipeg
1130: New bus, completely packed. Can’t believe there are still over two days to go…
1145: Start reading a Genghis Khan biography - Yes, the pickings on the second-hand Vancouver bookshop scene were slim.
1200: Brief feeling of euphoria gazing out on the vast, endless, rolling plains of Alberta. Sheer nothingness for miles. What happens here? For the first time on the journey I have a seat to myself.
1230: Someone sits next to me.
1400: MP3 Player runs out of power.
1600: Stop at the pleasingly named MEDICINE HAT.
1615: Obese family proceed to eat recently purchased burgers on board adding to the already vivid aroma. Why not eat in the station?
1800: Watch smokers scrambling to get off the bus at every possible stop for a few drags no matter how little time they have.
2000: Dinner at Tim Hortons – three donuts and a packet of crisps.
2100: Lots of people coughing in the cabin - sounds like a diseased frogs' chorus.
2300: REGINA – a long stop here. Modern bus station but little around. Offend a security guard by pronouncing the name of the town wrong. We re-board and there are plenty of spare seats. I stretch out and relax, comforted by the prospect of getting some sleep.
2330: Stop at MOOSE JAW. A large guy gets on and, out of all the seats he could choose, sits next to me. Hard to conceal my disappointment.
Wednesday
0200: Finish Genghis Khan – they don’t make ‘em like that anymore! One book left, War and Peace. It’s finally time...
0300-0600: Terrible night’s sleep drifting in and out of consciousness, groggily waking as we pull into another garage/bus station in the middle of nowhere. At some point I purchase a chocolate milkshake and some Nerds. Realise I've hardly spoken since departing Vancouver.
0700: Driver stops in a town called BEAVER for breakfast at Tim Hortons.
0800: Desolate landscape as we arrive in WINNIPEG. The bus station is at the airport. Driver: “There’s a Tim Hortons in the terminal.” What a fucking surprise. I drift around in a fugue-like state and, as some point, buy three apples.
Bus number 5 - Winnipeg to Toronto
1000: Surely, on a random Wednesday morning the chance of a quiet, sparsely-populated bus is high?
1030: Bus is full. A large family group of 16 get on including eight rampaging kids. Person in front of me puts their seat fully back… at half ten in the morning.
1100: Each member of the large family has already used the toilet and the stench of urine is over-powering.
1200: Crushing low as I calculate there are still 30 hours to go. Almost unbelievable.
1400: Morale boosting scenery as we hug the side of a spectacular frozen lake.
1500: Without a working music device, I have no option but to listen to one woman tell another woman the detailed minutiae of her entire, dull, life story.
1600: Phone runs out of power - I’m completely off the map.
1800: How long could a human survive eating purely Nerds?
2000: THUNDER BAY – reminds me of the apocalyptic war scene at the start of Terminator 2. Buy a weak bagel at Tim Hortons which, apart from several smoking power stations/factories, seems to be the only building for miles around. Briefly charge up MP3 player – the prospect of music seems a luxurious thrill.
2100: MP3 Player runs out of power.
2300: Terrible night’s sleep in prospect. The two people in front have put their seats back as far as possible despite one of them being a small child. They also keep their overhead lights on for the entire night.
Thursday
0200: Bus is full. I’m sat next to a guy who has also been on-board since Vancouver. We’re like blood brothers despite never having actually spoken to each other.
0500: Etch ‘TIME IS JUST A METHOD OF MEASURING PAIN' into the window frame with a coin.
0600: Location unknown but breakfast stop at Tim Hortons. Buy a banana.
0700: Drift in and out of consciousness, my $1 travel pillow finally paying dividends.
0900: A trance-like state of mind. Vast forests, idyllic lakes, and depressing strip-based towns roll by in a blur.
1000: Attempt to draw a perfect circle.
1030: Having been immersed in its midst for so long I can no longer smell the piss now. Maybe I'll be like one of those old sailors who can’t sleep on dry land unless they’re lying on wooden boards. Only for me it will be the need to sleep in a mist of urine.
11:30: Mild burst of euphoria - just over 6 hours to go. Hold on son, hold on…
1200: We stop in Sudbury for an enforced lunch break. Nothing around but McDonalds. Eat first Big Mac since mid-90s - as disappointing as I remembered.
1230: Final leg - Sudbury to Toronto. Man in front of me is listening to Ricky Martin at a ridiculous volume.
1500: Moose spotted by the side of the road!
1700: Finish the first chapter of War and Peace.
1730: Realise that, apart from about an hour, I've had to share a seat for the entire journey.
1800: This is it… we pierce the sprawling metropolis of Toronto. Pulling into downtown, a giddy, party-like atmosphere fills the bus... not really, it’s total silence. Finally, we arrive into the station. Feeling like Neil Armstrong, I step off the bus. Miraculously, my bag, which I haven’t seen since Monday, has arrived too. I avoid the embraces and handshakes among the small band of passengers who've also travelled the entire journey from Vancouver and set out on foot, a survivor, to a nearby squalid hostel.
“Conquering the world on horseback is easy; it is dismounting and taking the Greyhound that is hard.” Genghis Kahn.
TS
