End of road for iconic London bus
Londoners bade a fond farewell yesterday to the open-backed double-decker Routemaster bus - star of screen and song - that for half a century has been as synonymous with London as Big Ben. Loved by tourists and locals alike, the distinctive red buses...
Londoners bade a fond farewell yesterday to the open-backed double-decker Routemaster bus - star of screen and song - that for half a century has been as synonymous with London as Big Ben.
Loved by tourists and locals alike, the distinctive red buses have plied their trade since 1956 but they have been deemed expensive antiques and gradually retired since the 1980s.
Reporters and enthusiasts jostled for position and people lined the streets as the last Routemaster - the number 159 - set out on its journey from Oxford Street to Brixton bus garage in south London, ringing in the end of an era.
True to form, the bus left behind schedule. But in contrast to normal service, it was flanked by police outriders and well-wishers running alongside to catch a final glimpse.
The iconic double-deckers - with a conductor, cord-pull bells and an open rear boarding platform which allows passengers to jump on and off even when the bus is moving - are viewed by many as irreplaceable classics.
"They are part of London. They are part of my history," said retired electrician John Rickard, 70. "The conductors made the trip special. You used to get some real characters. Sometimes it was like a one-man comedy show."
Few other buses have fan clubs or a dedicated website. "I love being out in the open air but it can get bitterly cold standing on the platform in winter," said Lloyd Winston Licorish, 61, the 159's conductor. "Most customers are okay. Some of them even have a kind word and a cheery wave."
Dubbed the "monarch of the road" by 1960s comic song-writing duo Michael Flanders and Donald Swan, the Routemaster has starred in a film alongside Cliff Richard, millions of tourist photographs and is considered as British as fish and chips.
"There is an enormous sort of emotional attachment to these buses," said Travis Elborough, author of "The Bus We Loved", a homage to the buses, some of which travelled continent-busting distances during their long working lives.
Snub-nosed and light-bodied, with the driver enclosed in his cab, the last Routemaster was built in 1968. They had been designed to last no longer than 17 years.
Since the late 1950s, countless visitors to London have climbed the narrow stairs and settled into the front seats for an inexpensive bird's eye tour of the city's top attractions. At their peak 2,760 trundled throughout London. As the 159 neared its final destination, school children waved union jack flags and shrieked as it passed. Hundreds of enthusiasts mingled with curious locals at Brixton Garage. As the bus went off the public highway the crowd gave three cheers.
While passengers will no longer be told to "hold very tight please" as the conductor gives the bell-cord two sharp tugs to signal the bus is leaving, not everyone will shed a tear.
Conductor Licorish said he had mixed feelings about the 35 years he spent handing out tickets.
"On one occasion I was robbed and on another I was assaulted," he told reporters. "However, it never deterred me from doing my job."
For people who feel they really cannot let go, a few of the buses will run on two London heritage routes.