I am a happy user of public transport: something that friends have mocked me for over the years, but something of which I am proud as it has allowed me to navigate my way around the globe in a haphazard, yet enjoyable manner. And the bus is a great method of transportation as it can cover long distances, but at such a speed that you can observe the passing geography with a relaxed and casual eye. Therefore I was glad to find, on arrival to Christchurch, a comprehensive bus service. What I had not been prepared for was to find that said service was being driven by over-qualified candidates for "world's craziest driver". I know that bus drivers are crazy; but I have seen these folks do things with a bus that are just plain unhealthy and probably just a bit illegal (I don't remember any of their antics being mentioned in the road safety textbooks that I had to read for my test). It's funny how the passengers have taken to standing a good metre from the edge of the pavement at bus stops as a way of avoiding being run over by the bus as it pulls into the stop. I say "pull in", but its more like a scene from a film where the car donuts into a space. Obviously the bus driver has forgotten that he is no longer in his mini, but in a huge metal death-trap!! there is no chance of survival if you're stood too close (i.e. on the pavement); or if you're on board the bus as you change direction a little quicker than you were prepared for. This extends to the bus exchange: a lovely building where all major bus routes start and end. There are three platforms and buses flow through in an attempt to get rid of people and collect more. But the lanes are small (as are the platforms) so at rush hour the backlog gets longer. Does this stop the bus drivers behaving like idiots? No, it only serves to makes them just that little bit crazier. They spin round right angled corners and leap frog over each other in an attempt to be first back on the open road. Again "open road" is said in jest, as it's a one way system with cars turning, waiting and generally being in queues. The bus drivers seem to forget they are not a) a bike or b) the knight bus from Harry potter. They simply plough on into traffic; squeezing into unseemingly tight spots at a speed which causes your heart to drop to its knees and beg to be let off. I'm sure there have been many a confession muttered as people are in no doubt it's going to be their deathbed repentance. And then there is the way that the bus drivers play tag with the traffic lights. The roads are clear and it is easy enough to see the lights change. There's a bright green light followed by a bright amber light, followed by a bright red light - which remains on and sparkling. The bus driver continues to accelerate; impervious to the deep crimson glow being emitted by the large bulb pointed in our direction. s***, I'm sitting three quarters of the way down the bus and I can see the scarlet rays from here. But no, the bus driver keeps accelerating; causing my innards to congregate in my lower spleen for what they're convinced is their final prayer session in order to prepare me to meet my maker. So when does the bus driver slow down? Oh... about two car lengths short of the lights. Then they simply stomp down on their brakes thereby causing one or more of the following to occur: 1. being launched into another passenger's lap: the fact that they just happen to be 8 rows away from where you were sat is irrelevant 2. getting kneecapped - a painful and unnecessary torture where three layers of skin are simply scraped off on the seat in front (through your clothes) 3. Head butting the person in front. then head butting the person behind on the return trip (one way of meeting people I suppose) 4. suffering severe whiplash as your limbs are thrown into 15 conflicting directions simultaneously 5. losing any shopping/bags you may have to the front of the bus - which takes you a further 5 mins to find at the end of your trip; and god help you if you have breakables or eggs! the worst thing of all is that as you're being catapulted around the bus you manage to squeeze a look at the driver (to cuss him) and that's when you notice that he is in fact seated upon a seat with suspension, and therefore doesn't feel one ounce of this trauma! He just bounces around like a jack in the box in a padded cell. I wonder how many bus drivers get charged with 'dangerous driving' each year? And if not any, how the hell they manage not to. Some of the things I've seen them pull would get several points knocked off the healthiest of licenses. Well, up until this point this has been a bit of a joint collaboration with Tilly, but now these are just my words. In fact as I type this I am waiting for my bus and I am scared. The morning trip to work is pretty amicable, with lots of stops, but less lurching. It is the evening guy I fear, especially this one guy in particular. He is youngish, shaved head and, although from New Zealand, a semmingly east London tone when he threatens people. It starts off well enough, the first couple traffic lights aren't too bad, it is when we hit Riccarton Road that I start praying and gripping things, I have been known to grip strangers hands in desperation! Riccarton road is busy at most times, more so when there are road works scattered along its course, waiting to cause havoc. The bus drivers are more frantic not to be late to their next tea break push the limits even further. They accelerate harder, swerve harder and worst of all break harder. I am now kneeless, well at the very least there is a lot less knee of me. If you are lucky you get to sit near the front of the bus where you can use a slanted bit of plastic to help brace yourself for impeding impact. Today is one of those days; I am hoping that now I'm on the bus the typing will distract me from the fear. Although I am conscious of losing the laptop from my grip and sending it crashing to its death, but hey ho! So, back to riccarton road, it is a waking nightmare for all bus riders and it definitely reiterates the point about "pulling in" to stops as they have now all been moved to temporary sites and the drivers don't seem to remember until they are level with it and pull some incredible move that slides them horizontally across into the space. People stumble ashen faced onto the bus swiping their travel cards barely able to mutter a word as you see the last dregs of their lives pass before their eyes. Seats are found by accident, some having to sit on a number of laps before finding a spare seat and there they remain joining the rollercoaster ride to their destination, but only until they need to take their next bus trip - you have been warned!