Greyhound Adventures

Traveling by bus is not everyone's cup of tea.  My husband, Neil, detests it. All of the people Ximena (my traveling companion) told about our post-MathFest plans to return to Lancaster from Indianapolis via Greyhound bus were kind of horrified.  (They all responded, "Oh, I'm so sorry!  Not about Annalisa, but about Greyhound.")  If you hate traveling by bus, the description of our trip will confirm Every. Single. One. Of. Your. Beliefs.

Our bus (eventually)

And yet, we kind of had a blast by doing this all together.

Traveling by bus has two advantages over planes and trains: cheaper, and (vs. planes, at least) fewer carbon emissions. If you thrive on facing challenges and coming through unscathed, that might be a third "advantage" of bus travel.  I'll admit the list of "pros" seems to end there.

Our bus was supposed to leave at 4:20 p.m. from 230 E. Washington Street, Indianapolis.  There is a train/bus station in Indianapolis, but for reasons I still don't understand, we weren't supposed to board there.  The outdoor stop we found (found??) had no shelter from the rain or wind, which fortunately wasn't a problem for us because the weather was lovely.  The outdoor stop also had minimal signage and nobody to contact -- and that WAS a problem for us, because (a) we got a bit mixed up and waited for a while at 230 W. Washington Street before realizing our mistake, and because (b) . . . well, that's an even bigger deal.

When we realized we were on W. Washington instead of E. Washington, we hightailed it as quickly as we could to the right place.  We found a bunch of people waiting there for our bus; they'd been waiting since 3 p.m., some of them.  And there was no bus. 

I'd downloaded (uploaded?) the Greyhound app, which has a handy "track my bus" feature, and this handy feature told us the bus was already east of Indianapolis, heading merrily toward Dayton, Ohio. If we hadn't had all those other people waiting, I'd have figured we just missed the bus because of our W/E mixup, but with 4 other people swearing it hadn't come, I figured we ought to get in touch with the Greyhound powers-that-be.  However, there seemed to be no way in the app to do that.  And, because we were outside away from the station, there was no one around to ask.

Eventually I googled "Greyhound phone", and found a number to call.  I listened to a long disclaimer recording, and then punched a few more buttons to finally get in touch with a human being, who I told there were now 6 people waiting for a bus that hadn't come.  Eventually, he offered to book me on a 7:55 bus later that evening that would leave from the bus station (a few blocks away --- again, why the heck wasn't that an option for the 4:20 bus?).  I asked if he could also rebook my friend Ximena, and he said that he was only allowed 6 minutes on the phone with me, so NO.  He promised to send me my new ticket via email, and then the line beeped and went dead.

I want to pause here to note that I am almost never the most cell-phone savvy person in a crowd; in fact, I'm usually the least savvy cell user.  So this experience was also odd in that I was the one looking all this stuff up and figuring out all the next steps.  Um, . . . go me?!?

The other people with me asked what number I'd called.  One woman, the one who'd been waiting since 3, started crying because she had no way to get to the bus station; she'd broken her hip and couldn't walk that far.  Eventually, the police drove her to the bus station; she's across the aisle in the bus I'm on as I write this particular paragraph.  Another guy, the one who helped that woman get to the bus station, called from the station to try to rebook and was told because he'd waited longer than 2 hours, he wasn't allowed to.  Fortunately, the bus driver let him on the 7:55 bus anyway.

There was also a young black man who looked very confused with us. I approached him and said, "I'm pretty sure I look nothing like your mother, but you look like my sons, and so I'm going to keep an eye out and help make sure you get on this bus."  He seemed grateful, and later helped me and Ximena find a seat together.

In the Indianapolis bus terminal.  
Ximena refuses to be daunted by the challenges we've been facing.

At any rate, Ximena called the number and rebooked successfully.  I never got my promised email ticket, but fortunately an incredibly helpful Greyhound rep (three cheers for Charmaine!) in the Indianapolis station helped me out, and we boarded the 7:55 bus, which left promptly at 8:09 p.m.

Jealous yet, anyone?  

Ximena and I had a lot of fun chatting.  The bus wifi has been working really well; that's very nice, and the Greyhound app does a lovely job of telling us where we are and what stops are coming up.  We stopped for 20 minutes each at three more stops in Dayton, Springfield, and Columbus.  At first, the temperatures on the bus were really really cold, but at one stop while the driver was off the bus I snuck up to the controls and changed the thermostat from 62° to 67°, and that helped a lot!  (62 degrees -- sheesh!). The ride itself has been really smooth.  

We made it onto the bus, and
we convinced other passengers to let us sit together!

At 3:45 a.m., we pulled into Pittsburgh. We'd seen in advance that there was a 2-hour layover there, but it was a bit of an unwelcome surprise when the driver announced we all had to leave the bus and wait in the station so they could clean the bus. 

Our Greyhound stations weren't particularly clean.  The exterior sidewalks of the Indianapolis station were covered in pigeon poop; the glass doors were covered in smudges, and one of the doors was missing its handle.  Ximena had brought toilet paper along, and thank goodness for that.  The women's room at the Pittsburgh station had a dozen stalls, and the toilet paper dispensers from every one of those stalls had been removed. The Pittsburg station had long, black metal benches which might have made for decent sleeping, except for the deliberately positioned arm rests that made lying down impossible.  

So, all-in-all, being woken at 3:45 a.m. and moved into a dirty, noisy station until we were allowed to re-board the bus at 5:45 a.m. was yet another demerit against the bus for anyone desiring Luxury Travel.

 On the other hand, sleep deprivation meant that once we re-boarded, the bus was quiet as a convent for the next few hours. 

Sleeping in the bus with our blankets over our heads.

The trip across Pennsylvania was just beautiful, and we arrived in Harrisburg right on time, if "on time" means according to this new ticket.  We headed upstairs, where the Amtrak part of the station is really beautiful, and celebrated by getting train tickets and coffee, in that order. 

Still smiling!

If you happen to be 65 years of age or older and you buy your train ticket in person, the train from Harrisburg to Lancaster is less than $7.  For me, I had to shell out $12.  We snagged a booth seat together, and let me tell you, it felt luxurious!  The Greyhound bus itself wasn't at all uncomfortable, but Amtrak trains are comfy-er yet. 

This experience doesn't really have a moral.  It's not like I'd recommend Greyhound to one and all, and especially not to my husband who HATES buses.  Seasoned travelers won't like the (lack of) amenities, and infrequent travelers (like that poor woman with the broken hip) are at risk of getting stranded, is what this experience told me.  But as an experiment, and as a shared experience, I think both Ximena and I are going to really treasure our memories of this ride.