The Bus

I don't have the greatest history of long haul bus rides. The last one I took, in Argentina, I spent 15 or 16 hours (it was only supposed to be a 12 hour ride, max) trapped in a winsow seat next to a poopy baby. My expectations were not so high, then, for this 7 hour overnighter.

While not as big a nightmare as Argentina, it still stank... Literally. The gentleman next to me smelled of mothballs and sour breath. He was unhappy from the get go, and wanted to make sure we knew. He fidgeted the entire ride, including when we stopped to get food. The way he was acting, I thought for sure he was getting off at one of the early stops - when he had a very loud phone conversation at 1.30am, I thought he was telling someone he'd be there soon.

This was not the case, though. As we approached Sevilla, and after he had picked his nose clean (seriously), he jumped up and prepared to run from the bus. It was a good 10 minutes before the stop! I guess he needed to be the first one off. Once we stopped, he ran and blocked the luggage compartment, moving everyone's stuff until he could find his own. I almost had to hip check him to get my own bag!