In Rome: Me running like a crazy person after the bus to make it before it takes off again…. and…. Aspera!!! Un momento!!! Flagging the bus driver waiving my hands like I’m a flailing bird. Nope, the bus driver turns the other way even though he clearly sees me, but decides to not stop for a moment and wait for me to get on the bus. Off they go… now time to wait for the next bus to come. Oh, no problem! It can’t be that long, the sign says the bus should be here in 15/ 20 minutes….

Bus in Roma. 

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………… 25 minutes have passed; the sign says the same thing as it did when I first arrived and still no bus.

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…………………. 50 minutes later a bus finally arrives, so I race to get on it. It doesn’t matter how full this bus is, I’m getting on it (ha that’s what my ignorant self wishes). A swarm of people suddenly arrive from what seems like out of nowhere and somehow they get on the bus before me. I push my way through the crowd to try to squeeze on the bus, and somehow this bus has become so full that it blows any kind of capacity that it may or may not have once had out of the water. There is no such thing as a personal bubble because there are so many people that there is almost no oxygen on the bus, so forget any kind of space for another body. Of course, I don’t make it on this bus either. The bus driver looks at me and says that another bus should be coming in the next 10 minutes or so. So, I wait.

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25 minutes later and not only one, but two of the same busses arrive at the same time and are totally empty…. Thank you ROME :/

The next day, I try the bus and sure enough, I walk up and the bus arrives in five minutes with enough room for people to move and breathe and is fairly timely.

Moral of the story: If you have to be anywhere at a particular time, or are in some sort of rush, never, I repeat, NEVER take the bus in Rome unless you plan on leaving 3 hours before you have to be there. Between the unknown and unannounced bus strikes and the untimely and unreliableness of the bus system in Rome, you never know what to expect. So, next time I am standing at a CTA platform in Chicago and the “L” is five to ten minutes late, I’ll just remember I shouldn’t be so upset because I would probably be waiting for another hour and a half or chasing down a bus driver if I were in Rome.