012 It's all about the passengers

What I've learned from transporting many thousands of people around Wellington.

“Thanks for being an awesome bus driver!”

The woman walked from the back of the bus to say that to me. I don’t know what I had done to deserve the compliment, but I was happy to take it (even though the word awesome is an overused exaggeration).

This is the life of a bus driver. It’s all about the passengers.

An assortment of sweets — given to me by an appreciative passenger.

My driving career began around the tragedy of the Loafers Lodge fire on 16 May 2023. Five people lost their lives, and a resident has been charged with their murder.

At the time, I was driving Route 18 (Karori to Miramar via Wellington Hospital) and Route 12 (Strathmore to Wellington Railway Station, via Newtown). Adelaide Road was closed to traffic so everything diverted up John Street. Each day, I’d run up to 30 minutes late due to these diversions.

There was an eerie silence on the bus as we passed Loafers Lodge. The acrid smell of smoke. A need for passengers to turn and look at the building. It affected all of us. A tragic loss of life, visible “just over there”.

For whatever reason, I had more compliments from people in that first month than I have had in the last four, and I think the fire had something to do with that. People were generally kinder, and more tolerant. I was new to the job and eager to please. Any visible representation of kindness was recognised and acknowledged, especially through and around Newtown.

I gave people a break. I helped people onto the bus. I used discretion for people who were unable to pay the full fare. I let my passengers know what was happening, why we were running late, and how long I thought we’d take to reach our destination.

I had people shake my hand. One elderly Middle Eastern gentleman thanked me for showing such respect to my passengers and granted me peace as he gently placed his hand on my shoulder. These are touching moments for me. Any feedback I got was genuine and immediate.

Sure, bus driving is about maneuvering a large vehicle around tiny Wellington streets. But for me, it’s more about the relationship with my passengers. My experience suggests that if you treat people with respect then that is returned to you in spades.

I try to say something to everyone who hops on my bus, whether it’s a “hello” or a “hiya” or “kia ora” or just a smile. And I do the same when they get off. They thank me (mostly) and I thank them. Sometimes we say thanks over the top of each other.

I helped an elderly lady onto the bus with her shopping bag. She gave me an apple in return. It was a lovely apple.

I picked up a woman in Miramar. She was in her mid-forties and had headphones on. She sat in the front seat, bopping up and down and side to side to whatever she was listening to—like, in a visibly extreme way—like, if you saw her you’d think “What is that woman on?”. She got off the bus in Kilbirnie, and as she passed my seat she quietly placed a Werther’s Original on the tray next to my cash box.

The stop at the Newtown shops in Riddiford Street can offer unusual experiences. A chap with long grey hair and a beard, looking quite disheveled, extinguished his doobie on the interior handrail of the bus as he got on. He showed me his Super Gold Card and took a seat halfway down the bus, with the whiff of marijuana following him and filling the cabin.

On Route 12 to Strathmore Heights, I collected a young man at the Strathmore shops. He was struggling with a large bookcase and an occasional table. He wrestled his belongings onto the bus—it took him a while—and we took off. He pushed the STOP button further up the hill and I made the mistake of saying to him “I hope you don’t have far to go.” He gave me a long and very detailed description of where he would be delivering his luggage, barring the actual address and postcode. I was already running late, but let him have this conversation.

Another chap in Strathmore was running ahead of me in an attempt to get to the bus stop 200 metres ahead. I’d just started the trip and had no one else on the bus, so I tooted at him and let him onto the bus before the stop.

Strathmore Heights is an interesting suburb. It is a lower socio-economic area, with a lot of state housing, but it also has some of the best north-west facing property in the city. All-day sun. Amazing views. A lot of the people taking the bus to or from Strathmore Heights pay with cash because, I’m surmising, they don’t have the wherewithal to top up a Snapper. At the bottom of this suburb is Scotts College, one of the wealthiest and most elite colleges in the country.

Strathmore Heights. Scotts College. Chalk. Cheese.

Anyway, back to this passenger. He was very thankful that I let him onto the bus. I won’t provide any description for this gentleman, except to say he was very distinctive. Just after I had collected some Scotts College students at the bottom of the hill, this chap’s cell phone rang. He answered it and proceeded to have a bizarre conversation loudly enough that we could all hear:

“The Mob and Black Power are after me…

“No, they don’t know where I am.

“Yeah, I’m on a bus now…

“I can’t really talk…

“I’m getting off at Miramar…

“I’ll call you back.”

He got off the bus and I was profusely and energetically thanked for picking him up. I guess I now know why.

Just the other day, I collected a few people at a stop near Miramar. There’s a certain gentleman who is often seen around Wellington City. He rants and raves, and appears to be swearing at nothing in particular. The first time you see this guy you could be mistaken for thinking his ranting is directed at you. It’s not. It’s all in his head.

Anyway, this chap launches onto my bus and starts ranting at me. A woman in her late 60’s had come onto the bus using her Gold Card. She approached me while the ranting was going on and said that this gentleman had been trying to get on a bus to go to town, but he didn’t have a Snapper, and he had no cash.

“Could I tag him on with my Snapper?” she asked me.

“That would be a very nice and generous thing for you to do…” I replied.

The man sits down near the front, and this small diminutive woman goes up to him, leans over him, wags her finger at him, and says:

“Now, just sit there and be quiet! Don’t say a word!”

And that’s what happened. Miramar to Courtenay Place and not a peep. A few small mutterings under his breath but nothing more. Legend.

While I try to remain positive, it’s not always easy. There’s a ruse where passengers will get on the bus and say they only have cash, then pull out a $20 note for a fare that might be $1 or $2.50. We don’t carry enough change to make that transaction work and they know it. You have a choice to not take them or to let them on the bus without paying. I usually know if they are trying to play the game, but I also don’t like to leave people behind.

Once a woman and a small child got on the bus and she paid with a $20 note. I gave her change, but I found myself rolling my eyes and harumphing. I continued on the trip feeling bad about my response. This was clearly a case of a woman who didn’t normally take the bus and had no idea of the mechanics of paying and how much it would cost. I apologised to her as she got off the bus, and she returned the apology. Happy days.

Admit your mistakes. You’ll feel better about it.

In a small way, my apologies in these situations go some way to making everyone’s experience better and also make up for other drivers who don’t treat their passengers with the same level of respect.

When a woman once said to me “It’s so nice to have a cheery bus driver!” I know that what she was also saying is that there are so many grumpy bus drivers out there, drivers who are very black-and-white in their attitude:

— Don’t have the correct fare? Can’t come on my bus.

— Show me a Super Gold Card at 3.05 p.m. (on weekdays you can only use the Gold Card until 3 p.m.). Can’t come on my bus.

“Give people a break” is what I say in response.

There are people who take the bus because it’s convenient at the time. There are others who take the bus because it’s their only form of transport.

Some of the latter are really struggling to make ends meet. Showing leniency and giving discretion when I think it’s warranted isn’t losing the company money. It’s improving the experience of all passengers so that more people will take the bus.

It’s a virtuous circle. Good creates good. Happiness creates happiness.

As Glen Campbell says, “When you’re kind, and you treat people kind, you get treated in kind.”

It’s true.

Leave no one behind. Thanks for reading.

Hugs from the bus!

Postscript:

I’ve been blown away by the number of people who have subscribed to Thanks Driver. I’m nearly at 375 subscribers. My hours are long, and sometimes it’s hard to find the motivation and energy to write a column. So bear with me. I’m going to commit to at least one a month. If there’s anything you’d like to know about driving a bus, leave a comment and I’ll try and answer any questions you might have.