Another One Rides The Bus

Hours without a proper meal: 28 hours.

Those aren't clouds, that's the gunk on the window ruining the view of California

Seattle done, and another 24 hours or so on the Greyhounds. This trip wasn't so bad, although things began with a completely rammed bus sitting next to some hippie who hadn't had a shower for at least 3 days. How did I know this? He told me. Couldn't smell anything over the stench of garlic I think he'd rubbed into his clothes to hide his own smell.

The buses are supposed to stop every couple of hours for a break, but our driver didn't seem to know about this tradition and carried on like a machine for 5 hours straight not letting off the bus for more than 4 minutes and the quickest cigarette smoking ever. Fortunately I think I've cracked the art of sleeping on a bus and was rewarded again with a chin covered in drool. I'm hoping it was mine, but it could quite have easily belonged to the middle aged Hispanic guy I discovered snoring softly on my shoulder at half 5 this morning. Slightly ruined the sunrise over the mountains.