Once upon a time there were three buses. Bus number one was a lovely white bus that drove Tammy and Rosalin to Liverpool. It did its thing in the nicest of ways, driving straight down the road, stopping once for a break and then driving straight again. Quiet, reserved, well-maintained, nothing short of a perfect bus and a perfect bus ride.

Bus number two delivered Beatles Fan #1 (Rosalin) and part-time Beatles fan (Tammy) to many historic Beatles sites around Liverpool. Pennylane, Strawberry Fields, Birthplaces, Childhood homes, Tammy and Rosalin saw it all. But, unlike bus number one, bus number two was not a nice bus. Vomit had been recently deposited into a seat a couple ahead of our traveling duo and the stench of warm, slightly sweet retch was never far. It was an old bus, not much kept up, with torn seats and no air flow, but only Tammy seemed to mind. Even the poor women whose job it was to sit on the recently cleaned, but still wet, vomit seat did so with a smile on her face.

Bus number three was a pretty white bus. It was however a double-decker bus, which in Tammy’s troubled mind meant an all-the-better-to-tip-over-bus. The driver was a shrunken old man who had a bad-tempered shrunken old woman as his working companion. She never drove, nor did it seem her job to keep him awake as he drove, so other than being bad-tempered it’s unclear what it was her job to do. The 7 hour overnight bus trip back from Liverpool on bus number three was horrible. The bus was quite full when our fearless team boarded and they ended up sitting facing backward. Unlike the trip to Liverpool the trip back included stop after stop and seemed to pass through roundabout after roundabout. There was much jerking, turning, speeding up quickly and slamming of the brakes. Combined with the ever-entertaining but never peaceful contingent of traveling family sitting facing our team who enjoyed snacking and pop drinking and giving much helpful advice to fellow travelers and the lack of comfortable seating, sleep was difficult. Tammy and Rosalin found the whole thing giddily funny, but they were so glad when the bus returned safely to London.

All three buses lived happily ever after. The end.