616 at 06.26

There is something surreal about having a double-decker bus to yourself. Especially as the driver was hidden round the corner, so that I could imagine for a while that it was just me and the bus hurtling across the bridge by the Malt Shovel and up round the twisty bend by the garden centre..Sadly people got on in the next village and the magic bus evaporated into the usual 6.26 commute to work..