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Version 0 Version 1
Why can't buses be cooler in heatwaves? Why can't buses be cooler in heatwaves?
(about 4 hours later)
I got on a bus the other day. Or perhaps it wasn't a bus, it was a blast furnace. Hot but functioning when I got on, the doors clamped shut, the sun blazed in, the little slitty windows opened upwards so that not the tiniest wisp of air could blow through, and within seconds I was a half-dead, poaching slob – dribbling sweat, clothes sodden, body pasted to the seat, difficulty breathing.I got on a bus the other day. Or perhaps it wasn't a bus, it was a blast furnace. Hot but functioning when I got on, the doors clamped shut, the sun blazed in, the little slitty windows opened upwards so that not the tiniest wisp of air could blow through, and within seconds I was a half-dead, poaching slob – dribbling sweat, clothes sodden, body pasted to the seat, difficulty breathing.
At last I escaped, out into the comparatively refreshing 30-degree heat. Phew! So, can I suggest to future bus designers, that people need air when travelling about? Step forward the dumbos who designed the latest buses, because they don't work either. Rosemary tried one, and nearly melted away. The air at the open end went straight up the stairs, air conditioning units were "not operational" because they hadn't been installed properly, same useless teensy windows, and door in the middle so people could still nip in and out without paying. And poor Rosemary was stuck on the broiling buses for four-and-a-half hours. With a heart condition. At last I escaped, out into the comparatively refreshing 30-degree heat. Phew! So, can I suggest to future bus designers that people need air when travelling about? Step forward the dumbos who designed the latest buses, because they don't work either. Rosemary tried one, and nearly melted away. The air at the open end went straight up the stairs, air conditioning units were "not operational" because they hadn't been installed properly, same useless teensy windows, and door in the middle so people could still nip in and out without paying. And poor Rosemary was stuck on the broiling buses for four-and-a-half hours. With a heart condition.
She had dropped her purse on one bus, asked the next two where lost property was, but they were a different route, different company, didn't know. She must ask the route she was using, then travel for miles on more people-poachers; she got her purse, hooray, but was completely flaked out by the time she got home.She had dropped her purse on one bus, asked the next two where lost property was, but they were a different route, different company, didn't know. She must ask the route she was using, then travel for miles on more people-poachers; she got her purse, hooray, but was completely flaked out by the time she got home.
We are all calm when we start our trips, and wrecked when we've finished. Daughter was almost cooked alive in a bus last week, which remained stationary and hermetically-sealed shut, waiting ages for a replacement driver, who took his time, polishing his mirrors slowly, while the maddened, baking passengers moaned and sweated within. So we all think fondly of the Routemasters, with their big windows upstairs, which you could open wide and a lovely fat breeze blew all through the bus. Don't think luddite. Think baby and bathwater. We are all calm when we start our trips, and wrecked when we've finished. Daughter was almost cooked alive in a bus last week, which remained stationary and hermetically seale, waiting ages for a replacement driver, who took his time, polishing his mirrors slowly, while the maddened, baking passengers moaned and sweated within. So we all think fondly of the Routemasters, with their big windows upstairs, which you could open wide and a lovely fat breeze blew all through the bus. Don't think luddite. Think baby and bathwater.
So why the raving-mad design? Why torture passengers? Fielding thinks he knows. "Don't forget," says he. "Buses are for the poor proletariat, so who cares, eh?" Why torture passengers? Fielding thinks he knows. "Don't forget," says he. "Buses are for the poor proletariat, so who cares, eh?"