What a lovely day it was. At least, for once, the car was left in the garage while I caught a bus to my destination. Yet, throughout the ride from Żurrieq to Valletta I kept praying I would get there safely, harbouring a sense of uneasiness verging on fear.

The moment I stepped on the bus and looked at the driver, I knew it would be a rough ride.

As soon as the bus started to move, the driver asked loudly whether there were any passengers for Safi and a voice coming from the far end of the bus said no.

So it was assumed that the driver did not bother to follow the correct route to pick those unfortunate people waiting at bus stops.

There was then the dangerous driving: besides the speed the driver stopped at and moved away from bus stops in a haphazard manner. Some passengers were nearly sent reeling to the floor and those sitting down were jostled about.

When approaching corners or roundabouts, the speed remained constant, with the vehicle struggling to maintain balance and all those on board, especially elderly passengers, trying to hold on tight. Not to mention their faces turning white.

Here was an irresponsible driver in every sense.

It was November 17 and the time was 8.24am. I was on a white bus.

It was as unforgettable experience, as was the next bus trip I took, starting from bay 10 - Valletta to Ħamrun - on an ‘Arriva’ bus, driven by a lady and departing at 9.25am. In sharp contrast this was what I would describe as a perfect example of professional driving.