On the bus

12:15pm. Just got on the bus. Semi-usual pointless token inspection of my hand baggage. While handing in my suitcase was told I can't take fruit with me. I still had an apple & a pear from Nazca I was vaguely planning to eat on the bus. I knew I couldn't cross the border with them, but within Peru!? After being told this I was stuck in the queue for ages so couldn't eat them then. Guzzled most of the apple down just now (my right cheek is swollen and painful, I think I must have been biting it accidentally, which made this a bit of a chore) and threw the pear away. I also bought some things that looked like mini-popadoms at a stall at the terminal earlier, I threw the rest of those away too since whether they are permitted or not they were a bit sickly and painful to eat with my cheek as it is. Instead of being mini-popadoms hey turned to be some flaky pastryish wafers with some sort of syrup dribbled irregulalrly over them.

Am thinking I was a bit of a drunk idiot last night but sod it, I will never see those guys again even if I was.

I can imagine myself going straight on to Arica once I get to Tacna. I have no hostel in either place so that's not much of an issue and since Tacna seems to be an accommodation desert I probably have a better chance in Arica. Bit of a shame to completely fly through Tacna but I can put it on the list for when I come back. I guess the way to do it properly would be to arrive in the morning and leave there in the evening, giving just a few hours there to do the minimal sights. Wasn't an option going this way unless I got a 7am bus,
and even that would be a bit tight for time.

12:50pm. The fuckers have put the radio on or something, there's some fucking radio soap opera blaring out of a speaker right over my head, loud enough that I think blocking it with my own music is going to be hard.

IF I WANT TO LISTEN TO THE RADIO I WILL BRING ONE WITH ME. What is it with buses and mandatory entertainment on this fucking continent?

Man, this is getting right on my wick. Right over my head and louder than the typical film has been played. At least I could ignore music, but having a fucking simulated conversation going on continuously is screwing with my head. Next time I buy a bus ticket my first question won't be "is there a toilet?", it will be "ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING LEAVE ME IN PEACE DURING THE TRIP?"

1:05pm. OK, I can't stand it any more. Put my headphones on, I can still sort of tell there is talking in the background but at least I can't hear what is being said.

Maybe I should stop taking the more expensive buses. The cheap ones probably don't run to luxury entertainment services.

Getting a bit of a headache. I think it's partly getting worked up over this fucking noise and partly a slight hangover.

Oh, for the sake of accuracy, it's a TV programme not the radio. There's a TV almost above my head, I couldn't conceivably watch it even if I wanted to.

3:45pm. Been forced to stop listening to music by a headache and I am enjoying oh so much the endless blitherings of this fucking programme. I has a soap-opera quality, the non-stop dialogue about quite frankly nothing, the way the writers can clearly just churn out hour after hour after hour of this mind-numbing pap without any effort. I AM FUCKING SICK OF IT. I keep visualising myself sticking a massive knife into the speaker grille. I won't do that as I don't have a massive knife. I'm sure it would do no good anyway.

Following the train of thought created by Totalitarian Bus the other night, I am unable to avoid quoting 1984 in these circumstances:

As O'Brien passed the telescreen a thought seemed to strike him. He stopped, turned aside and pressed a switch on the wall. There was a sharp snap. The voice had stopped.

Julia uttered a tiny sound, a sort of squeak of surprise. Even in the midst of his panic, Winston was too much taken aback to be able to hold his tongue.

'You can turn it off!' he said.

'Yes,' said O'Brien, 'we can turn it off. We have that privilege.'