185. 11.30pm. Bottom deck, behind the luggage rack.
This week I have heard stories of people singing anthems on buses; dancing with strangers at bus stops; chanting along with Boris’s Get Ahead announcements… as a city we seem to have embraced the Olympics. But this evening, a little girl slumped down next to me on the 185. She and her three siblings, now sprawled across nearby seats, had run quite fast to catch the bus, and they were breathing heavily. After a few minutes the girl said, with a world-weary sigh and to no one in particular, ‘Do you wish we were the only people in the whole world? Then we could keep everything all to ourselves.’
I suppose it must all feel a bit much if you’re a small person.