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Picture the scene: at around one in the morning RM5 glides through the glowing night time streets of London, every inch of floor space occupied by a willing passenger. The destination board at the back of the bus forlornly reads ‘The Last One’. 100s of people with cameras line the streets as the last ever Routemaster on Route 73 pulls into Victoria Station for the last time. Camera flash after camera flash lights up the sky. The conductor shuffles remorsefully round the bus, handing out chocolates from a tin as tears stream down her tired face. At the Angel, Islington, the driver and conductor get off and pose at the front of the bus, greeted by a chorus of clicking cameras. One slightly dazed passenger hops on, unaware of the journey’s significance, confusion showing on her face as to why this particular bus was crammed full with people and their cameras. At about two in the morning a faithful passenger asks the conductor for a ticket, a bizarre reversal of the normal practice, as people dig in their pockets for change one last time. At Stoke Newington I hop off, for the last time, and watch the bus slide into the night, the lights from each window twinkling before the bus slips round the corner, gone forever. My bus. Posted by: Hamish Kallin | October 23, 2005 | 09:52 PM |
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