The world's three most depressing words, as we all know, are 'Rail' 'Replacement' 'Service', and this morning having realised that the Central Line isn't open I was obliged to await such a 4 wheeled charnel house. Happily however I was greeted with a shiny red re-commissioned Routemaster and almost wept like a child seeing their Dad coming through the garden gate after being 'assumed' dead' in a mining accident.
Truly amazing, to sit back on the side seats and smell the paint and the seats and feel the air swirling around and the analogue ting of the bell and the warm cuddly feeling the soft angles and furnishings always greet you with, like a warming caress given without conditions from your first ever crush. Only on a routemaster.
A truly beautfully crafted and wonderfully archiac form of transport that anyone who understands beauty should take a ride on when they can. I miss them so much.
Th number plate fell off as well.