Phrases like ‘end of the line’ and ‘last stop’ imply a more extensive finality. In reality, this is my little bus shelter just up the road from my house. It’s the last stop – the nightmare run for beginning drivers with hairpin turns down the twisty mountain road. I had one Maori woman driver break into tears one day – I was the last passenger and it was her first time on her own.
The road is quite narrow and for some unknown reason they run a full size city bus down here. Other cars and pedestrians blanch in fear when they see a massive bus approaching. And I’ve been terrified being a passenger in both car and bus. As for being a pedestrian – I rather like that the bus driver seeing me walk will often stop and ask if I want a ride the rest of the way down the hill.