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Coach subclass

If you ever need to travel from Spey Bay in Scotland to Nottingham, avoid public transport. My itinerary included three buses, three long distance coaches, two trains, a few hours of walking and many, many lagers. It took 29 hours. The only saving grace with all of the delays to the coaches was that I got to sit in a pub in Leeds and watch a one-armed man roll cigarettes, while a bunch of other old men in jackets and decline stared into the middle distance.

National Express is a dire coach company in the UK, to be avoided at all costs for their provision of uncomfortable seats and tardy services. My favourite of their excuses ventured on my last trip was “traffic”. Genius. A coach operator that fails to anticipate traffic on the roads. Another of their sins was to advertise an overnight service between Edinburgh and Leeds. I thought to myself that a long period on a coach trying to pass out with the aid of many tins of Stella and the least comfy seats in showbiz might result in some kip. But no. The service throws you out for two and a half hours at 4am in Manchester, so any dreams of REM sleep are quickly shattered. Tossers.

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