I think the most peculiar part of my day is riding the
bus. Two of the bus lines that I take
(the 11 and the 38) are fairly normal. The
38 is always crowded in the morning (Monday and Tuesday) when I take it into
the city as there is a lycée, or
French high school, at the stop before mine.
The 11, which I take when going to the center of town any time other
than Monday and Tuesday morning, is usually pretty empty when I board it out in
St. Jean-de-Vedas but usually starts out full when I board in Montpellier
itself. It is crowded, but otherwise
fine.
And then there is Le
Ronde. Le Ronde takes a wide circling route around the outskirts of
Montpellier, but it is the most direct route for me to get from where I live to
Université Paul Valéry and back again.
It is always packed and there are always very bizarre people who ride
it. I have heard over six distinct
languages while riding (French, English, Italian, Russian, Arabic, and some
language that I could not identify from Sub-Saharan Africa). I have seen people in shouting matches with
the driver. I have seen the bus go from
empty to full and back to empty during the course of three stops. And I have heard all sorts of music: French
hip-hop blared over a man’s iPhone to which he sang and danced and Toto’s Africa played over the bus’s intercom
radio. I have seen people in every
manner of dress, from artic expedition, to club outfit, to hipster ensemble, to
one man who wore what I could only call the garment of an Incan wizard: he was
a middle-aged man of North African descent wearing a grey wool-knit
pancho/mantle-like over-sweater that also formed into a pointed cowl. It’s hard to describe, but it is a sight that
will stay with me for a long time.
This is why I prefer the tram, even if it involves a fifteen
minute uphill bike ride back to my house.
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