I usually travel around these days by taxi, especially in the evenings as the current operators of the dear green place’s buses are unreliable.

However, after my final hospital visit, I did not have enough money on me for the return journey home, so I walked along Alexandra Parade to find the nearest ATM. Unfortunately it was out of order which forced me to go on a pilgrimage to Duke Street where there are ATMs a plenty.

Duke Street these days is not the same place where I spent my school lunchtimes. Now its infested with youths who just wish to cause trouble with anyone who walks by them on their street corner or bus shelter. It no longer has any soul, and it made me feel a bit uneasy.

As I waited for a taxi, I realised I couldn’t be bothered with waiting, especially as I saw the bus which could get me home ready to stop at the bus stop. So I decided to get the bus home.

The bus was empty for most of the journey and as it neared my destination, the bus ground to a sudden stop and the bus driver came out of his cabin and looked rather worried and upset.

The good curious Samaritan in me asked him if anything was wrong. In a Polish accent he replied ‘ I am so sorry, I do not know where I am going. ‘

If your a passenger on a bus, and the driver mentions he doesn’t know where he is going, then I guess like me, you would be rather concerned and a tad annoyed at the revelation above. First Bus are recruiting foreign drivers ( especially from Poland ) which is a nice idea and rather refreshing from the usual grumpy Glaswegian drivers one has to put up with these days.

Anyway. The driver was a young chap, and he seemed to be distressed. I told him to calm down and to give me his route timetable. I had a quick glance over it and told him that he was 10 mins early so I could easily show him the way to the terminus without rushing.

He was thankful for this and I wished him well in his job after we arrived at the terminus.

I thought that First Bus would immerse their foreign drivers in Glasgow routes before being allowed on the roads. I dread to think what would have happened during rush hour. More than likely, that poor driver would have been abused either verbally or physically.

Now, I remember the halcyon days of the GPTE and the Corporation. Beautiful dressed buses in splendid colours, always clean and tidy. More importantly, the were usually on time.

Why do some things have to change?