Recently, I had to take the bus home from work. I got down to the pick-up spot in plenty of time and soon a bus appeared, heading my way. I quickly realized I had a problem. Not only did this bus have no sign on it saying where it was going, but it also didn’t turn in to the resort it was supposed to visit, at least according to the schedule. Instead it drove past me and turned into a different resort which should have been its second stop in this area.

I had no idea what was going on, but I knew the bus had to come out of the resort the same way it went in, so I walked up the road to the security gate and waited for the bus to return. When it did, I stopped it and asked the driver where it was going. It turned out it was the bus I wanted.

The driver was quite friendly and said he’d look out for me in the future. I realized this bus was scheduled for the morning commute to work and the evening return home. It probably rarely picked up anyone other than regular commuters. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my journey was a one off.

The trip itself was fine. In the confines of the bus, it was hard to know whether we were going fast or slow. A strong crosswind was blowing and we swayed back and forth as we passed through cuttings, and also when the driver rummaged around for a pastry, then consumed it.

When we got to Hawi, the driver dropped me at the end of my driveway and I stood to there as 15 or 20 vehicles, caught in the bus’s wake, rumbled by. It wasn’t a bad way to get home, but probably a one-off since my work schedule is variable and a one-a-day bus doesn’t work for me.

I took the photo between the two seats in front of me because I liked the the shapes and lines and angles.