Let me start this off by asking Greyhound to take a fucking hint from bus lines in Mexico. Sure, mexican bus lines suck, but not as much as you’d expect them to, especially if your only knowledge of public transportation south of the US border is what you see in movies. There’s hardly a chicken or turkey on board, and the buses look a little bit better than that.
In fact, I’ve travelled almost exclusively with Transpais, and although I do have my qualms with them, thay’re far better overall than whatever Greyhound has offered me.
While their selection leaves a lot of ground for improvement, at least you get movies on these buses. I hardly ever watch them, being that they’re movies I’ve already seen, or do not care to see (90% of them are rated G), but at least they keep kids busy. Ha! On my last trip, they played ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’. The original one. At first I was like “is that Richard Dreyfuss? It’s been a while since I saw him in a movie! in fact, the last movie i saw with him was Close Enc… well look at that!”. Then I was like “Why the fuck are they showing a movie from 1983?”. Either way, I had my iPod with me, so I didn’t care. I’ve yet to see a Greyhound that plays movies.
The seats on Greyhound buses are rather uncomfortable, kind of like waiting room chairs. You know, the kind you buy at Walmart for 10 dollars. The seats on mexican buses are much more comfortable, recline further back, and if you’re lucky and happen to board a newer bus, have more leg room. That’s one thing I don’t like about some buses here. As soon as the fucker in front of you reclines back in his seat, you’re fucked. You have his scalp 10 inches away from your face. It’s like you’re a fucking hairdresser, and it sucks. But in general, it’s even more comfortable to travel by bus within Mexico, than whatever you get in most commercial airlines.
If you’re lucky, the bus isn’t all sold out and you get both seats for yourself. If you’re unlucky, as I was one time, you get sold a ticket – for the same price, mind you – wherein you have to travel standing up. Hardly a common occurrence, but hey, first come, first serve, and I bought my ticket literally 10 minutes before the bus left, on a Sunday.
Since I’ve been travelling a lot between my hometown (fuckers, I hate you all) and the border, I’m always treated to the joy of checkpoints. Customs from the border down, and a military one from my hometown up.
Mexican Customs has a system in which you press a traffic light thingie. I think I mentioned this somewhere else. If you get a green light, you’re scot-free to travel with all your playstations and your assault weapons and your stolen merchandise. But if you’re one of the unlucky fools to get a red light, well, Human Rights won’t let them perform a cavity search on you, but you just know they’d love to. I’ve gotten a red light 3 out of 4 times. Since I’ve3 nothing to hide, I even help them out. “Well, officer, here I have my computer”, I say pointing to my computer case. “And here, a bunch of dirty laundry”, pointing to whatever bag I have. It’s not like they’re going to detain me over a pair of dirty underwear. I hope.
The military one is more fun. Especially the first time I went through them. I had left my wallet here in the border, by accident. I did my thing down in Ciudad Victoria, and came back the next day. It was until I was buying my return ticket that the realization hit me, and I panicked. I had no fucking ID. Sure enough, the soldier was asking for ID. I kindly excused the fact I had left my wallet at home, and somehow I was fortunate enough that the guy considered the only piece of paper on me as valid ID – my bus ticket. Ha! The second time, I had all my ID on me. They didn’t ask for ID. They only asked if we (the passengers) were carrying alcohol. I wasn’t (only in my bloodstream – ha!) so I returned to my podcast. The third time, they only got on the bus to tell everyone who had luggage in the compartments to get off the bus, as they were searching bags down there. I was only carrying my computer case and a small backpack (which could have been full of cocaine, and they wouldn’t have noticed) with me, so no problems. And this last time, they just asked me where I was from (“Ciudad Victoria”, I replied staring right back at him), where I was going (“Reynosa”, I replied, not letting my guard down, but wanting to say “Duh, can’t you read the front of the bus?”), and where I worked (“in Canada, I’m here on vacation”, still looking straight into his eyes. I had the documentation to prove what I was saying). He went on to ask other passengers. The randomness of their search criteria makes things interesting every time, although I always get nervous that they’ll get me on something, someday. I’m paranoid like that.
I hate travelling by road. I get bored too easily. At least in these times, we have iPods with 40,000 songs, and not the old discman and accompanying cd case with the same old tired songs. Wait, not only do I get bored. I also get claustrophobic, anxious to arrive, and oh god if only there was still a smoking section on the bus. But hey, at least you can fuck around when buying your bus ticket (IF you have other ID…). I was going to put up a picture of my last bus ticket, but I’m currently sans Photoshop and Microsoft Paint is completely useless. In any case, I used the name “Viktor Shevchenko”. Ha!
The Iceberg.













