Eventful bus journey

The scenario: 9.20 one Sunday morning, just landed in Cirkewwa and looking for the 645 route bus. A couple of minutes waiting and a polished old bus arrives. The driver descends and tells me that the bus will leave within 10 minutes and that in the meantime he will take a coffee, kindly offering to get me one too.

The driver returned and we picked up a conversation during which he told me that he does not usually drive buses. My heart missed a beat, also because I was in an incredible hurry. Otherwise, the conversation was pleasant and informative, touching on problems faced by bus owners.

Ten minutes later the journey began, with myself the only passenger. That loneliness lasted a couple of stages, as by the time we arrived at the last bus-stop in Ghadira Bay the bus was full of some 44 British and German tourists, all seemingly amazed at the impeccable condition of the old bus.

The onslaught of foreign passengers revealed the first three major difficulties for the improvised bus driver, namely his ignorance of ticket rates, of the functionality of the ticketing machine and of the communication flow due to his primitive use of the English language and that of the non-British passengers. Nevertheless, some way or another, the driver managed to get through this nerve wracking situation.

So far not so bad, even though something was telling me that the bus was already carrying a load beyond its mechanical ability to do so. Alas, it took only the first few metres of the treacherous Mellieha climb before "disaster" struck. Booom, and the bus broke down, prompting all the foreign passengers to burst into uncontrollable laughter which had been slowly accumulating since they set foot on the bus. Being the only Maltese onboard I was angered by the odd derogatory comment on the quality of the Maltese bus service, and felt ashamed to the marrow.

The driver kept his cool, opened the in-bus engine hatch and set about fixing the problem. Within 15 minutes the bus was revving back to life, and with bone shaking jerks accompanying each gear shift, we were on our way again. By this time a good 75 per cent of the passengers where simply having the time of their lives, cracking jokes and breaking into bouts of heartfelt laughter. The remaining 25 per cent, myself included, were not amused at all.

I managed to settle down in my misery hoping that I would soon get to my destination and to ease my despair I set my mind thinking creatively and positively. After a couple of minutes, a simple concept to turn this black comedy into a fruitful venture sprang to my mind. Why not turn this situation into an organised animated service offered from certain destinations that may be consciously purchased by commuters at a premium price while ensuring that there is an alternative service that is consonant with modern day standards. This could give a new, profitable lease of life to old buses possibly contributing to financing new vehicles and other benefits beyond the word length restrictions of this contribution.

An important spill-over of such an idea is that the 25 per cent of unimpressed commuters are not given a blatant reason to be justifiably critical of such an essential service to tourism, a negative perception that may be easily, albeit unjustifiably, projected to the whole product offered by the country. If the old marketing adage that a satisfied customer brings 10 new ones but one dissatisfied customer turns away 100 is true, that bus trip could have easily left Malta with a loss of 760 potential tourists. Adios! Branding effort and its money!