Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.

Sunday, December 12, 2010


It was a cold dry morning. I decided to have a few hours in the city and perhaps pick up a treat for myself, since it was my birthday. I walked up and caught the early express bus.

When we were almost there, the blizzard hit. I was glad to get off the bus and in for a coffee and sandwich. I braved the snow all the way down Buchanan St to check on a watch repair (would you believe it will have to go to Switzerland!), and then found it difficult to walk in the slush and headed back, thinking I would have to cut this short.

I fell into Caffe Nero at 11, quite exhausted, and the barista said, "Darling, what you need is a hot mince pie!" That was to be my last food that day.

Up to the bus station. Crowds of upset people, and no buses. I was stranded. We waited and waited, and at last at 1pm two buses appeared. I managed to crush on to the nearest - it would not take me home, but perhaps near enough. Off we set.

We made painfully slow progess, but at least we were moving. The motorways were in chaos. No attempt at all had been made to clear them. No ploughs, no gritters.

Hours went by. It began to get dark. And cold. Small buses do not heat well.

At last we were truly stuck, not far from the slip road we needed. But no effort had been made to clear those slip roads, so everyone was at a standstill on the motorway, unable to get off. The bus was very cold indeed. All around people were abandoning their cars and heading off into the dark, and the deep snow, walking down the motorway, some with small children.

I had a bad asthma attack, and the driver called for help. Eventually the police arrived. Would they help me home? No. "Stay in the vehicle and we will bring you hot drinks." We never saw them again.

Hours went by. We crept on. The passengers began to desert. I stayed because the driver had to pass my home stop to deliver his vehicle to the depot. During all this time no effort was made to clear the roads, or help those stuck in vehicles.

I made it to the bus stop eleven hours after I had got on the bus. I had to wade home in deep snow and arrived frozen and exhausted.

And the dogs? I opened the door to the regular sound of Sonja snoring. No hysterics, no panic - it seems they had just slept.

I am still recovering from being frozen, dehydrated and starved.

Now I have a burst pipe as well.

I am getting too old for all this.
What an awful day. I hope things are getting better, and the pipe is fixed.
Oh my gosh - what an miserable time you had. 11 hours. Someone could have died. I'm certainly hope you don't have a long lasting injury from this experience. I had the opposite thing happen to me once, here in Sunny Atlanta Georgia. I was stuck in the 105 degree heat with no shade, water or telephone for several hours, because the bus drivers didn't know what they were doing. As a 65 year old with multiple health problems, this could have been fatal. Once you have recovered, I sure hope you can give those responsibile a blast. Even if the head honcho resigned, others from the public agencies were involved and they could have stepped in and made a difference. Good luck.
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