No. Wrong wrong wrong wrong. Whoever came up with that shit has either a. never traveled before ever, or b. never had the distinct pleasure of riding a Greyhound in the midst of a hurricane.
The past few weeks, I’ve been traveling so much on weekends that I don’t actually remember what DC is like on weekends. From this, I have learned the following:
- It is always ok to overpack.
- Flannel pajamas are necessary for survival.
- When you check the weather before you go places, maybe also check if it’s going to rain. Especially if you have curly hair and bangs.
- Don’t take the Greyhound if there is any chance of rain.
I got on the bus tonight from Norfolk at 3:15. As we got on the bus, the driver informed us that getting to DC wasn’t guaranteed, but we’d get to Richmond. HOWEVER, the Richmond Greyhound station is where misbehaving travelers go to wait to die. It’s the purgatory for annoying tourists. No one deserves to have to go there, ever.
As we pulled into the station at 5,the driver told us that our bus to DC would still leave at 6:15 as planned. Perf. I stopped my dad and sister from Yelping hotels in Richmond. I was going to get home.
I spent the next hour in the “restaurant,” where passengers in limbo can fill up on combos like “fish” fillet, seven different types of “burgers” and various fried chicken. Hm. I sat and ate my Kit -Kats and waited for my bus to be called.
(Not) surprisingly, we were never called to get on our bus. After a group of hopeful DCists fought with security guards to get out of there, we eventually learned that our driver, Lionel, wanted to get home to Philly and was fighting with the company to be able to go. Thank GOD for Lionel. Without him, I would probably be stranded in Richmond for the next three days (please keep in mind that it wasn’t raining during any of this…also, shout out to Rafferty for offering to save me from the Greyhound station).
Upon reaching Union Station, I demonstrated my impatience by walking past the 100-person long taxi line with all my luggage and walked home from the station in the rain.
And now, I’m sitting in my flannel pajamas drinking a Pimms cup, eating Chipotle tacos, and watching The Shining. Proof that the destination is so much better than the journey.