Why I Hate the Bus Eireann and UlsterBus Websites

(And Why I Love My Family!)

One of the more exciting parts of my upcoming Ireland trip for me is that my friend, Al, is going to be joining me. I have a friend with me and for the first time ever, I get to tell my family to shove their "but you have to come over for tea... again" and go be a tourist.

Okay, so I would never complain about meeting my family for tea, but it's lovely to know that I have a built in excuse to leave the family trail for the tourist trail. Like Donegal. I haven't been to Donegal since I was nine. I miss Donegal, but I don't have any family that lives there so it's not high on the list when I go. Well, this time it is because I think it is the most beautiful part of Ireland (take that, over-touristed South-West!) and that everyone should go there. (But don't tell them that I sent you, they'd probably revoke my Irish passport for ruining their little secret.)

Given that it's not just me going, I want to make sure that we get to where we want, when. I know that my family would be more than willing to drive us between points but I want to know that if no one is able to go from Dublin to Armagh until Saturday and we want to leave on Thursday, we can do it.

Via Monaghan, of course, so I could stop at the cemetary and pay my respects.

Enter Irish Public Transit.

I had a problem trying to get DART information a few weeks ago and even took to ranting about it on facebook.

Bus Eireann and UlsterBus blew them all out of the water!

There's a Bus Eireann/UlsterBus multi-day pass and I wanted to have a rough idea if point-to-point would be a cheaper option. I figured looking at the fares would be the easiest way to do this. Oh, how nieve I was!

Bus Eireann was confusing and would give fares going to the North on one page but not on another; once you got to the fare page, you couldn't then click a 'home button' to return to a new search quiery; the default stop for most cities was not the main bus station but other smaller stops (often on regional busses so then you get "transfer at the main station, blah, blah, blah"); in short, it was frustrating and not the least bit user friendly but I was able to get a few rough ideas of time tables and prices.

A couple of our trips would be entirely in the North. As this region is covered by UlsterBus, I didn't expect Bus Eireann to cover the information (and it didn't) so I headed over to UlsterBus to get a few price ideas. Given that they had three links on their main page which said "UlsterBus Fares", I had high hopes. Yet every time I tried to get fair info, it ended with this message:

Every.

Single.

Time.

RAWR!!!!

I again took to facebook to rant.

Within five minutes, I had four different messages from my cousins all saying that they (or their parents, love how we children are so willing to volunteer other family members) will gladly drive me and my friend where ever we need to go.

"I work until three most days but then I can run you up to the North."

"If we need to meet somewhere and drive back, you can just give me a call."

"Why are you bothering with UlsterBus? You know my dad will be more than happy to take you where you want to go."

"You know my dad's retired, right? I'm sure he'd love to pick you up and run you around ."

And that's how crappy, crappy websites reminded me of how much I love my family... even if they do live eight time zones away...

...and even if one of them joked that the websites were IQ tests, I've failed, and now I won't be allowed through customs.

The Date

I was apprehensive about the whole idea but he had been persistent. It's been a while since any guy's advances towards me could have been described as persistent so I decided to throw caution to the wind and say "why not?" Well, here's why not:

We had agreed to meet for an early dinner. I set the alarm on my phone to go off so I could fake a reason to leave if I needed to and then walked to the pub a couple of blocks from my house while my phone remained neatly on my dining table. I had no exit strategy. I finally understood how George W. Bush felt about Iraq.

I arrived at the pub and quickly found him. We made eye contact as I approached and he stood up to greet me. I reached out to shake his hand while he went in for a hug. Midway through this awkward disaster-waiting-to-happen he realised his error and moved to shake my hand instead. Except in his haste to bring his right hand down and across he punched me in the boob. Hard. So hard I winced and grabbed my boob in full view of the entire pub.

This was sign # 1 that I should really just turn around and leave. I didn't. Silly me.

"I didn't sleep well last night because my cats decided to play tag at two in the morning."
"I'm highly allergic to cats."
I have two. This does not bode well for either of us. Not once in the three times in messages that I mentioned my cats did he ever respond about being allergic. So either he didn't really read my messages because he's a douche or he purposely hid this information from me because he's a douche.

After losing his job due to downsizing during the recession, he moved home. Having a brother in the exact same situation, I have no problem with this per sae, my problem is that he is now employed. I asked if he has plans to move out now that he's working. He doesn't. These are my acceptable reasons for not moving out:

• I incurred debt while unemployed and I want to pay it off before I move out.
• I've decided to save money so I can put a down payment down on a house instead of renting again.
• A parent is having some health issues so I'm staying close to home for the time being.
• After the stress of unemployment and having to be frugal with money, I'm saving up for a really nice five star holiday to relax and treat myself. Once I'm back from that, I'll look to move out.
• My parents' retirement fund took a hit in the market. I know that paying them rent is going a long way to helping them out with that so I'm going to stay for a bit to keep helping them out.

This is not an acceptable reason to keep living at home in your late 30's: My mom makes me pancake breakfast at least once a week, why would I move out? A girlfriend won't do that. This girl definitely won't do that after that comment.

We ended up on the topic of hockey as most my conversations do these days. He was honest that he's not a sports fan but he hoped the Canucks did well. I give points for being honest about his disinterest in sports instead of lying about it (which is all the rage in BC right now), but after then I told him I'm a Canucks fan and he called me a bandwagon jumper because all girls just are. I kid you not, those where his exact words. In one fell swoop, he lost all the points he had gained by being honest.

In trying to find a shared interest, I bring up comic books. He had mentioned them and it seemed like a topic I could show an interest in. After a 10 minute discussion with himself about DC vs Marvel, he looks up at me like he had completely forgotten I was there and then meekly asks "uh, what do you think?"
"I'm not a big comic book reader myself. I mean, I've read a few over the years but it's like D&D, I've often thought I'd like to get into that but I just don't know where to start. I'd be like Zach from The Big Bang Theory: "where are the Archie comics?" Do you watch TBBT?"
"No."
"Oh. You should. It's hilarious. Anyway, I do really like the subculture that goes with comic books. Some of the artwork is amazing. I've read a couple of graphic novels. I'm really starting to get into Steampunk costumes and decorating, that came out of a sub-culture of comics and cosplay, I believe. Sci-Fi obviously overlaps with the comic book culture a lot and I love sci-fi. In fact, my friend and I are talking about going to the ECCC next year."
"ECCC?"
"Emerald City Comicon. In Seattle."
"A convention?"
"Yeah." I'm starting to get excited. This is something we have in common and we're only halfway through eating, maybe this will take us to the end of the date!
"Don't do it."
"Why not?" I'm a bit shocked at the attitude he's pulled about going to the con.
"People who go to cons are creepy. I mean, they're grown adults who dress up in costumes for Christ's sake!"
First off, I've just told you I want to go to a con and you've told me that makes me creepy. Thanks a lot.
Second, cosplay is awesome. 'Nuff said.
Third, you're a grown ass adult who doesn't want to move out of your parents home because of pancakes. That is creepy.

When the bill finally arrived, my heart did a little jig. My feet may have even tapped a bit under the table. Now, I had every intention of paying my portion of the bill before I arrived at the pub (I mean, I wasn't going to turn him down if he insisted but I by no means expected him to pay even though he did ask me five times to go on a date before I accepted) but I expected the courtesy of "the bill dance". You know the dance: let me get it; no, no, it's okay, I'll pay my portion; are you sure?; yes. That dance: the world-wide dance done on many a first dates.

Instead he grabs up the bill, loudly complains that it hasn't been separated, states his mathematical prowess while figuring out his portion of the bill, then promptly forgets to a) include his portion of the tax and b) tipped a whopping $0.85. I point this out to him and he writes out the math on a napkin while talking like I'm some simpleton. When he doesn't include the tax after I point it out again, I flag down our waitress and ask for separate bills.

As we're leaving the pub, he asks with all sincerity if he could call me again. Without thinking, I laugh. I feel bad about that for a millisecond before remembering that I'm a creepy bandwagon jumper and simply tell him 'no'. No reasons, no excuses, just no.

When I get home, I find my phone where I left it. It's screaming at its loudest volume "TURN ME OFF! TURN ME OFF!" while the screen blinks on and off. I know exactly how it feels.

Ol' Satchmo Was Right

Two ladies who I know only by sight were sitting in the lunch room during their morning break when I happened to come in to fill up my water bottle. They were looking at pictures of one lady's trip to Mexico or Costa Rica or Cuba (somewhere warm with Spanish-influenced architecture, for the sake of the story, I'm saying Mexico) and she was describing in great detail an area of her resort where there were games. The other lady kept saying 'wow' like she was rehearsing to be the next Sham-Wow sales(wo)man until she finally interjected to say that she'd be too scared to go. Having heard only part of the conversation, I assumed she meant on some ride or zipline or tequila drinking challenge. No, she meant she was too scared to go to an all-inclusive resort in Mexico!

The other woman explained that there was a gate at the resort and everyone had to pass through it to get in or out, that you had wristbands so they knew who was a guest where, and that is was totally safe because the locals couldn't get in unless they worked there. "Still," the other lady continued. "I envy your adventurous spirit." She must have repeated this about four times in the space of one minute. Over and over again. Every time she said it, I felt my anger rise a little more and I had to refrain from giving her a lesson in what the definition of what adventurous actually meant. Again, in case you missed the bolded bit above, her friend went to an ALL-INCLUSIVE RESORT in Mexico!! As I was leaving the lunch room, trying my best to crush my water bottle through the brute strength of anger alone, the lady who had gone on the trip was talking about the amazing food "especially the burgers!"

I understand that everyone has different levels of comfort, and maybe everyone else's idea of adventure doesn't include buying a samosa through the window of a rusting bus which is being driven by a guy who smells of pot while the bus is stopped in Mombo, Tanzania. I get that, but to consider going to an all-inclusive resort with a freaking gate and everything you need so you never have to leave the resort is not adventurous by any stretch of the definition. It would have been more adventurous (and possibly deadly) to go camping at Sombrio Beach with an open food container.

I felt a lot of anger about the situation because it's obvious this woman believes what the media tells her about how unsafe the world is. After thinking about it though, I just felt incredible sadness for her. She will never know what it feels like to salsa dance with a young Cuban man, or listen to Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D- in a darken Gothic church while a bat flies above her, or jump off a dhow into calf-high water and stride towards the beach on Zanzibar with her bag on her head, or to watch one of the great games of soccer ever played on the world's tiniest TV with the receptionist at her Paris hostel, or to strike up a conversation on the S-Bahn with a little German child who wants her to know that he learned the English words 'witch' and 'Halloween' at school that day, or watch a thunderstorm in Venice and cry because she hasn't seen the ocean in five weeks and she's missed it, or to spend a rainy day in Clifton singing songs with a group of locals she's just met because they were also avoiding the rain by sitting in a pub.

It's such a beautiful world out there filled with beautiful people and beautiful experiences. It is a shame that this woman will never see it because her idea of adventure is a gated, all-inclusive resort in Mexico.