If the cliché ridden magazine articles and reviews weren’t bad enough at quietly poking fun at Dalston, now even the BUSES are at it.
Cinema sleepovers, monsterous mascots, drag queen dining and vomity transport: it’s a yearly round-up of London’s highs and lows, but not as you know it.
Like the tube, commuting by bus in London means adhering to certain rules and etiquette, and occasionally sitting next to a patch of dried vomit.
Last week began in much the same way as the previous one had ended: with me reaching into my pocket, tipping out the contents of my bag and realising that – for the second time in under seven days – I had lost my Oyster card. Ah, Oyster Cards: the Londoner’s passport, our essential bit […]
Can you help me solve the mystery of the weird things on top of bus stops?