I like buses. I'm keen on trains, too. When I was a kid, I (eventually) got permission to travel from my home in East Hartford... to the big city: Hartford. It gave me a new sense of independence. I was grown up (or so I thought). But aside from a stint in Chiang Mai, Thailand (where the buses are basically converted pickups for hire, not really on organized routes), my 4 month stay in Vancouver has been "bus central" for me.

Buses certainly broaden our reach in the geographic sense; for one who likes to wander, it extends the area that can reasonably be covered on foot, transport us past the uninteresting bits of the city, and expose us to new vistas. But wait, there's more!

The really interesting part of travel by bus, is that you are thrust into an arbitrary mix of the places' humanity. A cross section of the city, and that cross section varies from day to day, day to night, place to place. In an instant, you and 20 to 100 other people become ingredients in an urban soup.

The Sikh security guard, uniformed, turbaned. Gives a smile and good morning. We're on the same bus each morning, and while we don't speak to one another, there's a comfort in seeing him -- a shared moment with a kindly (appearing, anyway) stranger. The St. Patrick (warning: obnoxious website) school is across the street from my school, its a secondary school (grade 8-12), so the kids range from 14 to 18 or so. Since my bus runs along a major thoroughfare, I'm also joined by a half-dozen of these kids in their green plaid uniforms. They're uniformly sleepy and awkward socially. I watch them posture; you can see who likes whom, who would like to know whom. Who is shy; who is extroverted. They see only each other -- it isn't elitism or anything like that -- they're just in their own world.

I happened on one of the kids in the afternoon, alone for whatever reason and headed west with me a bit later than usual. He never seemd to smile, and frequently slept on the trip into school. I spoke to him for the first time -- "Gee, it is really strange to see you awake". Big smile; "Yeah". While the conversation was brief, the acknowledgement that I was also familiar to him, was interesting. After a while, you recognize the passengers and some of the drivers. You know who's grumpy, who's helpful and enjoys the job. Which actually look at the bus pass when you get on.

Meanwhile, back to my fellow rides. One day there's a junkie: gaunt, she's got a half-cigarette in one hand, unlit. Looks like walking skeleton. Falls asleep in place. Her partner looks pretty rough around the edges -- but he's got a cellphone with him. Everybody has a cell phone. Drunks too; generally friendly. Skateboarders, 20somethings with multiple piercings... Tall, handsome rastafarian. Business people.

Its also interesting to note what people are reading on a bus -- what they're capable of reading ("Linear Algebra"). The improbable: 20something who looks completely checked-out of life -- he's reading a Harry Potter novel. One day I'm seated next to a "proper" gentlemen I assumed is headed for work. He's reading a book of very explicit gay porno. This stuff is well beyond "romance novel". This is smut. I don't blush easily. Wonder what he does for work.

What's not to love?