Huge Bus

About three years ago I trained as a tour guide for a leading London bus company.  For the purposes of this story we’ll call them ‘HUGE BUS’!   My dream was that whilst not an acting job I would be employed in a creative environment, outside, meeting new people, the potential was huge!  Using voice skills, something I could come back to again and again…yes, well…in reality this meant flying around London on top of a bus in March with about 15 strangers, a group that Channel 4 would have been proud to make a documentary on -no common thread, no age bracket.  And, it has to be said, a truly brilliant teacher…there wasn’t much he did not know about London. 

Throughout the 11 day training course you would be given a section of the Huge Bus Bible, to learn by heart that night and the following day we would run through it a dozen times or so, with each of us getting our chance to speak on the microphone and bring our group of contemporaries on our work in progress tour.  The beauty then is having enough information in your brain to be able to keep speaking for up to half an hour in any spot on the tour map, should you get caught in a traffic jam, a parade, or anything else London throws at you in a day.  The other trick is picking out the essentials that must be pointed out.  For instance, when the light goes green and the driver sees a way to catch up on journey time, essentials like St Paul’s Cathedral, Big Ben are essential to point out…and not as one of my colleagues did….”and now on your right hand side, ladies and gentlemen, the wonderful building society…Alliance and Leicester”!!

One particular day I was in a foul mood, early morning, Sunday, sleet, you’ve got the picture…add to this the following – Huge Bus has clothed me head to toe in the most almighty disgusting uniform you have ever laid your eyes on!  A coat the size of Africa, with luminous stripes lest I get knocked down.  Underneath said sleeping bag coat, I wear a shirt, tie, jumper WITH lapels, all emblazoned with Huge Bus. There are the trousers, my own, so I feel ok about those,  and finally the shoes, the shoes, yes, NHS shoes come to mind, perhaps if you’d had surgery or had one leg shorter than the other, but no, just shoes for a tour guide.  And an emblazoned hat that sells the company in the dark with its luminous yellow writing. 

So back to Sunday, sleet….some delightful tourist has decided to brave the elements and sit up top…so up I go, and sit for 3 hours on a tour pointing out all the sites. Tour ends, I’m frozen.  I head to the nearest coffee shop and get in the queue and this guy, this indecisive guy, is just hovering around the sandwiches, and I have neither the patience nor the inclination to wait until he makes up his mind about egg mayonnaise or tuna with cheese so I scowl and snap ”Are you in the queue or not?” and then things slow down quite significantly.  He looks up and I realize it is him.  As he gazes into my eyes I know I am his long lost love, he will rescue me from my life, he will help me on the road my career is travelling down…he steps back and considers the size of me…that I, in my Huge Bus tent uniform would dare to speak to him like this.  Matt Damon.  He smiles and offers me a space in front of him.  At this point I lose all communicative ability, just smile, shrink and motion that he carry on as before.  Never has a hole in the ground been so necessary and so absent.   As I stood behind him I did wonder if I should say something like “I love your work Matt” or possibly even just plainly “I love you” but I refrain!  I'm not capable of making sounds that sane people make when faced with experiences like this!

I lasted at Huge Bus for 6 weeks, I have completely forgotten most of what I learnt, Matt Damon is actually not that tall, and he seemed very pleasant.  And Sean Bean married an ex Huge Bus tour guide! I presume he met her when she was not in uniform.