Double-decker joyride.

Double-decker joyride.

On the journey into Sunderland

When I thought

It was home to the Queen

Before the Beatles

When traffic was a horse

With a thrown shoe

A bus every half hour

Except on Sunday

Football a religion

Before real tragedy

Proved it was not

I would sit on the top deck

Having jumped on

The open platform

Negotiating the winding stair

More of a helter than a skelter

To sit at the front

Above the driver

Looking down

At what he saw

As he turned the wheel

It took heft

There was no power steering

Or clever automatic gearing

The roads were winding

It was all we knew

Just enough room to squeeze two

Big red Buses if they came by

In opposite directions

If they mounted the verge

They always had ‘Shop at Binns’

Written in big letters

Along the side

We would wave

Until the conductor

Told us to behave

Cars were the province of doctors

And insurance salesman

My Dad’s first one came

In 1960

An Austin A35

In Peagreen LBR948

Now I struggle to remember

Any number plate

But it was a step up

And we were mobile

Blackpool was only a day away

Over the hills

And through the ‘Lake District’

Every journey a mystery

So much part

Of my history

Even now

As I recline

Above an endless sea

Dusting off the face

Of a moral compass

Reflecting on the ethics

Of business class

Or the role of

Fossil fueled planes

In the explosion

Of greenhouse gas

As for good or ill

They brought me

And my baggage

All the way

From Murton

County Durham

The land of the Prince Bishops

The number 21

Routemaster of my youth

Via London and Melbourne

A few desperate scrapes

And Jolly English japes

To the slow-paced

Manana

Of Manly

A sleepy suburb

Of sunny Brisbane.