Mysteries of the London bus.

When I was in Berlin, the bus came on time, and I mean it was prompt. It was also eerily clean for public transport in a capital city.

The bus in L.A. exists in a weird, transitive space, and can best be described as something between a public nuisance and a mobile homeless shelter. It's a system best left to either the very desperate or the very brave, a problem made worse by the fact that almost everyone in LA is a driver by default.

In my experience, the London bus lies somewhere in between. It's got a hint of social stigma [You take the bus? You wouldn't rather take the tube? I know its more expensive but...it's the bus.] But it's still pretty clean and functional, and not at all unpleasant. I'm a big fan of the 24, which runs direct from Kentish Town to UCL, and is 24-hour (a luxury I'm coming to appreciate on this side of the pond.) However, London buses seem to be powered by a strange, impenetrable witchcraft that I am far from grasping. For example:

1. While the buses have a "schedule" it seems more like a suggestion than an actual plan. Buses run late, early, right on top of each other, or sometimes not at all. From time to time, buses stop at unscheduled places, where I've seen drivers open the doors to chat with passing friends about weekend plans. While this is hardly professional, it's all part of the fun of city life, and certainly not the weirdest thing to happen over here.
2. Sometimes, the bus pulls up to a stop and there will be twenty-or-so policemen waiting around the stop, for no apparent reason. The first time I saw this, I ran to the window, assuming that something dramatic as hell was going down. I mean, for that many police to assemble on the streets of LA, you can pretty much assume that there's a body lying next to them. One or two of the policemen in question had a notebook out, and appeared to be writing, but for the most part the whole situation looked more like a police department mixer than an actual crime scene. I've seen these (in)formal gatherings several time since, and while I'm still very curious as to what the hell they're doing, I can't be bothered to get out of my seat anymore.
   
3. By far the weirdest aspect of the London bus is that, from time to time, the driver will pull over and kick you off. For no apparent reason, and with no thought of a refund or a pass for another bus. About a week after I moved here, I was taking the bus home from school when this exact thing happened. The driver was so adamant about removing us that he started pounding the roof, trying to hurry people down from the upper level. Once we were all out, the driver shut the doors in a huff (we had greatly inconvenienced him, obviously) and sped away further down the route. I wasn't sure what to do, how to get home, or if this was normal bus behavior, so I asked a British-looking guy standing next to me. He was completely unphased by the whole situation: he didn't know, or for that matter care, what had happened, but completely accepted that it was now time to walk. Being very helpful as most Londoners tend to be, he offered to walk my lost self home, but remained blankly dismissive of my (American) curiosity to know what had just happened. It was a fine example of the British tradition of the stiff upper lip. Riding time was over, walking time was here. There is no why.