Alfie here, hello! I came across Ben’s project to travel on all London bus routes back when we were researching the Bus-Tops requirements in early 2010. I immediately loved the project - it’s an odd thing to do, sure, but what I loved was the journey implicit, whatever that might come to be; drunks shouting their love loudly, laughing teens on the top deck - we’ve all had these experiences. Ben has kindly written a post for Bus-Tops talking about his endeavour and I for one found it a delightful insight and read, I hope you do too.

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When Alfie asked if I wanted to write a blog-post for this wonderful project (of which I have not written nearly enough about and feel terribly ashamed - this will be rectified) it gave me the chance to reflect on the first three years of my quest to travel on every London bus route from start to finish.

There are over 600 main routes crossing the capital. The basic London routes start at No 1 and go up to No 499, with only a few gaps. Those between 500-700 are basically part-time services and school buses, which I am avoiding for obvious reasons.

My initial aim was to finish before the Olympics, but given I am only 110 routes in, this is obviously not going to happen. No matter. All the more time to savour the experience.

However, the first question I am asked when I tell people of my quest to travel on every London bus route from start to finish is ‘Why?’

It’s a good question and not one easily answered.

But you should know this. When I was eight I spent an entire summer writing down the number-plates of all the cars parked in our small tourist town on the Norfolk coast. I filled up my tatty little notebook pretty quickly, bombing around the town on my BMX and writing all these number and letter combinations down with slavish enthusiasm.

But here’s the thing. I only wrote down the number-plates. I made no note of the model of car, its colour, where it was parked, or the time. The notebook became a series of random letters and numbers, utterly without context and of no use to anyone.

Such is life when you’re eight, I naturally didn’t ponder on the psychology of such a futile endeavour - when you’re that age you think you’re going to live forever and so how could anything be a waste of time? - but here I am 28 years later, about a quarter of the way through an equally pointless task and laden with wife, child, mortgage, full-time job and a very, very occasional social life.

Justification is required these days, if only to remain married.

This was not a scheme dreamt up on a drunken night down the pub, when ideas such as this are tossed around in jest and forgotten as soon as you are home. I came across the idea to travel from start to finish on every London bus route on CookdandBombd in 2009. Ostensibly, CookdandBombd is a site where fans of Chris Morris and Peter Cook hang out, but given neither of those two characters are exactly prolific (Mr Cook at least has an excuse), discussion is easily sidetracked and the idea to travel on every London bus was raised in a thread entitled ‘What’s the bleakest snippet of conversation you’ve overheard?’

Which says it all really.

However, the idea wormed its way into my consciousness that night as I lay there trying to sleep having tended to my then insomniac 17-month-old son. If Thomas hadn’t woken, perhaps I would have slept soundly through the night and all this would be the monkey on someone else’s back, but as usual, he didn’t and it’s not. Still, as the cod-philosophical giant clothes-peg that sits on my desk says – the journey is the reward.

I had no idea if anyone had done it before, but within a couple of days I had set up a website and told incredulous workmates that I was going to do it, so then I had to do it.

On that first day, just before I set off to do route 1 (Tottenham Court Road to Canada Water), my wife said to me:

‘You’re actually going to do this? I thought you were going to piss about with the website for a couple of weeks and then not bother.’

She had a point. My life is littered with unfinished projects, but it is something I always remember whenever I briefly ponder abandoning the quest. I have to prove her wrong.

In truth, when I began, there was no point to it, but I felt that was part of the appeal. Someone suggested doing it for charity, but again I felt the entire endeavour would lose its charm. The point, if there was to be one, would hopefully become apparent as I travelled. Perhaps the hours crawling around London’s streets would help me learn more about myself (difficult to tell yet). Perhaps I’d finally finish the book I’d been writing for three years (Three years later, I haven’t. Nearly, but not yet). Or perhaps I’d just take some mildly amusing photos of absolutely no significance (this has happened). Statistically, I’d get mugged (not going to jinx it).

It’s true the two decks on a double decker often feel very different. Downstairs, in the guts of the journey, it is sweaty and grimy. People shout down mobiles, eccentrics pretend you’re their uncle, babies scream the place down. Upstairs is generally quieter, but can be more intimidating when large groups of teenagers take over. I swear we were never that ‘confident.’

I should point out that not one minute has been spent on the buses that could have been spent elsewhere with my wife. I work shifts, so often have plenty of time off in the week when she is working, so if our little boy is at nursery, that’s when I can head out. At the time of writing, I’ve spent nearly 90 hours on 110 routes. I have over 300 to go. But if I am to find meaning in this on a personal level, I think it’s the chance to disconnect.

It’s my chance to just sit and observe London and its people. Such is our permanent online connection, we move seamlessly from one source of stimulation to the next, not allowing ourselves a minute to pause or reflect. Wool-gathering, as my grandad might have called it if he wasn’t too busy being a daft racist. Attention spans are so short now. I’m as guilty as anyone. Sitting on the loo used to be a good time to think. Now it’s spent checking twitter. I’m worried this article is too long, but how long does it take to read? Five minutes? It’s almost as if people are scared to be alone with their own thoughts, so they fill every second with external stimulation so they don’t have to ponder any questions larger than ‘what should I have as my avatar?’

But when you have nowhere to be, and if you’ll pardon the disgusting pun, the buses allow wonderful trains of thought. The glory of this quest is the fact that my only destination every time I get on a bus is the end of the line. The journey really is the reward. I’m not in a hurry. It’s traveling with the head up. It’s guilt-free people watching, joining dots between London’s landmarks and observing this swarming mass of people go about their day, mostly with their heads down.

I’m not the only person doing this. Peter Watts started it for Timeout magazine before his section was cruelly binned, there is a group of ladies doing it between them (I think they’re about 150 routes ahead of me) and the Evening Standard had a story a couple of weeks ago about a retired civil servant who hauled himself around every route in about eight (joyless I imagine) weeks.

I didn’t set out to be the first. As that summer of 1983 suggests, I didn’t have anything in mind when I started it, but there are times now when I can think of nothing else but finishing it.

One emerging storyline is guest bus reports. I am very keen to get reports from other people’s local buses. Manhattan or Dudley (the first one will be a coastal route in Florida), it doesn’t matter, I would love to build a library of people’s journeys on their local bus routes. They don’t have to be wordy, or adopt the style I have used. They could just be a series of photographs or even video - it really doesn’t matter. So if you like to get involved, please contact me at the blog or @Benandthebuses.

Good work to everyone at Bus Tops. I love the idea and how its been implemented. I’ll be blogging about it plenty over the spring and summer.

Ben