“A half to Ayr, please,” I said to the bus driver as I placed my money on the tray. Mum was still standing on the pavement making sure I’d asked for the right thing and as I took the change and stuffed it in my pocket; I turned around and waved excitedly to her before the bus moved off.
I was 11 ½ and travelling from Glasgow to my Great Aunt’s house 30 miles away by the sea. “It’s only down the coast,” I heard my Dad tell Mum as they were discussing the wisdom of letting me travel on my own. To me, it felt like I was going to another country.
 |
| Old Glasgow to Ayr bus |
