Back in the days when I was a bus driver, the powers-that-be realised I could spell; and I was appointed manager of a rather large bus station in southern England. From time to time, however, I could still be called on for driving duties; and, on one of these occasions - at very short notice - I was asked to act as co-driver for a coach (see below) from Victoria Coach Station in London to Amsterdam.
The idea had been that I would travel out (overnight) as a passenger and then drive the coach back to the UK on the following morning and I had been assured that there would be one or two vacant seats which would allow me to get some sleep on the outward journey. Unfortunately, however, that was not the case and I had to perch on the rather uncomfortable co-driver's seat near the front entrance of the coach. As a consequence, I hardly slept at all.
Now, at this point, I should mention that I had never been to the Benelux countries in my life - let alone make my way back to London. However, the company employed 'hostesses' to serve snacks and drinks during the journey and it had been assumed that 'mine' could act as navigator. Indeed, that might have been the case had it not been for the fact that she was about to undertake her very first journey, too. So the expression, "the blind leading the blind" came to mind.
Fortunately, another coach was leaving Amsterdam at the time time as mine; so, the driver offered to guide me out of the city. Less fortunately, however, he was aiming for Paris; so, after he veered off to head south, I was left to my own devices - and, had it not been for an unscheduled - but interesting - tour around Ostend city centre and some surrounding roads - I thought I did rather well to reach the Eurotunnel terminal at Calais without further mishaps.
To celebrate my safe arrival, French Customs decided to undertake the most thorough inspection one could imagine. Perhaps, the fact that many of the passengers were young students might have influenced the officials; but, for whatever reason, absolutely every piece of luggage was inspected thoroughly and we were delayed for well over two hours. In hindsight, however, I suspect the break from driving may have been a blessing in disguise from my own point of view.
Hindsight's wonderful thing and I really wish I could remember during which days of the week this little adventure occurred because it would have been nice to be able to claim a lost weekend of my own in Amsterdam.
