For many years ago it was a friend of mine who drove a night bus 94 at the same time that he studied. When the bus struggled to get up over the Bridge helgnätterna he used to switching off the lights and say something about our beautiful capital city.
At the time there were no mobiles to bury your gaze in. But it was still get in nattruset as pains to look out. Not until the light suddenly went out and the nice driver in the speakers said something about The silhouette, these boats down at the South Waterfront or the lanterns in the Essingeledens weak bow.
the eye out through the windows and discovered their city anew. Many tuned up in a spontaneous round of applause. The lively atmosphere continued all the way to the last stop and made the driver heavy helgpass.
And nattsuddarna walked home with light steps.
Now I’m about to step on the four at Hornstull. The first thing I notice is a white fårskinnsfäll hanging over a seat. Who can have forgotten it? Then I see another one. And a to the.
look around me, the more I discover. Handrails and uprights have lindats with julglitter in gold. The roof is covered with pine boughs of plastic and red baubles.
All react in the same way. Eyes father around in the bus. People start to talk with each other. Shooting. Corners of the mouth are turned upwards.
Fårskinnsfällen is synthetic but very soft.
Hans Arbman, the reporter is on the Inside and have almost forgotten how it was to fall asleep on the night bus – for waking up in the terminus.
