The Route Collection:
Just finding my way around, one fare, one turn of the wheel at a time. In homage to the driver's, who I now have a newfound admiration for. A picture guide to Lothian Buses
, a tapestry of life unfolds, woven through the windows of a Lothian bus. Every journey, a story waiting to be told.
I’ve managed to snag a seat by the window, the city unfolding like a living map. My journey through Edinburgh on a Lothian Bus or two, step aboard a vibrant double-decker, its madder red contrasting with the grey Edinburgh sky. Feel the thrum of the engine as it pulls away, past grand Victorian tenements and bustling markets.
Weave through cobbled streets, sunlight glinting off the brass band instruments of a street performer. A lone piper's melody blends with the rhythmic chatter of passengers, a symphony of the city. Passengers come and go, a kaleidoscope of faces etched with the quiet determination of a Monday morning. Tourists crane their necks, snapping photos of the majestic Edinburgh Castle perched on a craggy peak. Teenagers in their school blazers erupt in giggles, their youthful energy a stark contrast to the serene expression of an elderly woman lost in the pages of a well-worn paperback. Towering tenements line the way, their stone facades adorned with intricate carvings, silent witnesses to centuries of history.
Peer down at Princes Street, a kaleidoscope of shops and hurried figures. The buses groan, lurching through the heart of the city. As I go, I catch snatches of conversations: students debating philosophy, tourists oohing at the architecture, an elderly couple reminiscing about childhood Edinburgh.
Grand Victorian terraces give way to the neoclassical elegance of Georgian squares, their wrought-iron balconies adorned with window boxes bursting with blooms. I rattle past the imposing bulk of Edinburgh Castle, perched on its volcanic crag, and glimpse the turquoise sliver of Leith docks winking in the distance. Breathe in the mingled scent of exhaust, rain-damp wool, and the faint sweetness of candy from a child's pocket. Passengers squeezing past damp umbrellas as they jostle for a seat upstairs. Their view explodes: grey stone tenements march up impossibly steep hills, crowned by the brooding castle, a silhouette against the stormy sky.
The rain intensifies, drumming a relentless rhythm on the bus roof. The wipers swish back and forth, momentarily blurring the vision of bustling crowds and grand monuments. Round a corner, and there's Arthur's Seat, a hulking green dome shrouded in mist. The city sprawls beneath, a tapestry of grey and gold, tinged with the melancholic beauty of the Scottish rain.
Escape the urban sprawl, emerald fields unfurling as the bus crests a hill. Sheep graze on rolling hills, watched over by the stoic gaze of Arthur's Seat in the distance. The Firth of Forth shimmers like a sapphire, gulls wheeling overhead as the bus hugs the rugged coastline. Quaint seaside towns beckon, pastel houses clinging to cliffs like candy drops. Back in the city, neon signs paint the night sky, casting fleeting shadows on the faces of weary commuters. A lone busker's song mingles with the hum of traffic, a lullaby for the city that never sleeps.
My stop approaches, disembarking, the sting of cold air invigorating. The scent of fish and chips mingles with the rain, a distinctively Edinburgh aroma. As I walk away, the bus rumbles on, carrying its load of stories and journeys deeper into the heart of this historic city. #selfstudy #workbasedlearning #busroutefamiliarisation #networkknowledgebuilding