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Bus travel in south London: Stories from the city over the water
Collection of short stories set on, around or linked by south London bus routes. Bus travel in south London is London, but not London as you know it. London is a mirror in all things and we see things differently depending on which side of the looking glass we are on.
Welcome to the south, the Surrey shore, the Sunny Side. Get on a bus, go transpontine and immerse yourself in some of the stories of the city over the water. Inside you’ll find angels, cyborgs, pirates and terrorists. There are shapeshifters, London folk demons and vengeful goddesses but also stories of love, friendship, family life, growing up and revenge.
A synopsis of the stories.
The Last of the Gang to Die – An emotional return to Shooter’s Hill for one of the original dandy highwaymen.
A Cyborg’s Dream of the P13 – On the buses with a cyborg fan of one of South London’s most meandering routes.
Liebe Astrid – A tale of exile off Coldharbour Lane.
White Man on the Clapham Omnibus – He never thought it would happen on a bus that runs through Clapham.
The Lad Who Walked Alone – They’ve shut the sex sauna and made the area la-di-da and things ain’t what they used to be.
New Cross Roads and Friendly Streets – One woman’s search for love, meaning and political correctness on the way to Lewisham.
The Tale of the Raven and of the Kat – Hollywood glamour and foreign nobility on the banks of the Ravensbourne.
Sound of the Suburbs – Bus travel through some South London suburbs as a mindfulness technique.
Commodore of the Pepys Estate – A retired pirate gains a national treasure money cannot buy.
Fruit and Nuts – Sex, drugs and rock and roll and picking fruit by the Pool River.
Having a Bubble – London is a mirror in all things and we see things differently depending on which side of the looking glass we are on.
Nighttime
Bank Holiday Weekend – Revenge can be a dish served damp and windy.
Sung by the Neck – Not all buskers are quite what they seem. Not all buses, either, come to that.
Keep Smiling Through – Adults tell children there are no monsters. Most of the time, this is true.
A Gold for Big Ben – A journalist finds himself well and truly sucker-punched in this sporting comeback tale.
I Thought We Was Fam – It’s not easy for young hearts to run free in the “roaring twenties”.
Jeux Sans Frontier – A tale of cruelty and hidden treasure on the banks of the Old Surrey Canal.
The Liberty Bus – The cats are there for a reason but what are they protecting us from?
Slouching to Balham High Street – The Priory broods over the West Streatham woods like a ruined pimp.
The Heavens over Mortlake – A chef finds that the doors of perception can be opened using an Oyster Card.
Karlene at the Crossroads – The top of Streatham Hill provides the solution for all of life’s problems for one bus traveller.
A Year from the Provinces –The number 35 weaved and curved its way north through Borough towards London Bridge then over the water, far away from SE17 and the strangeness it contained.
Bus routes featured include The P13, The 178, The 155, The 185, The 21, The P5, The 47, The 50, The C10, The 356, The 133, The 468, The 196, The 159, The P4, The RV1, The 63, The 315, The 22, The 109, The 35.
Welcome to the south, the Surrey shore, the Sunny Side. Get on a bus, go transpontine and immerse yourself in some of the stories of the city over the water. Inside you’ll find angels, cyborgs, pirates and terrorists. There are shapeshifters, London folk demons and vengeful goddesses but also stories of love, friendship, family life, growing up and revenge.
A synopsis of the stories.
The Last of the Gang to Die – An emotional return to Shooter’s Hill for one of the original dandy highwaymen.
A Cyborg’s Dream of the P13 – On the buses with a cyborg fan of one of South London’s most meandering routes.
Liebe Astrid – A tale of exile off Coldharbour Lane.
White Man on the Clapham Omnibus – He never thought it would happen on a bus that runs through Clapham.
The Lad Who Walked Alone – They’ve shut the sex sauna and made the area la-di-da and things ain’t what they used to be.
New Cross Roads and Friendly Streets – One woman’s search for love, meaning and political correctness on the way to Lewisham.
The Tale of the Raven and of the Kat – Hollywood glamour and foreign nobility on the banks of the Ravensbourne.
Sound of the Suburbs – Bus travel through some South London suburbs as a mindfulness technique.
Commodore of the Pepys Estate – A retired pirate gains a national treasure money cannot buy.
Fruit and Nuts – Sex, drugs and rock and roll and picking fruit by the Pool River.
Having a Bubble – London is a mirror in all things and we see things differently depending on which side of the looking glass we are on.
Nighttime
Bank Holiday Weekend – Revenge can be a dish served damp and windy.
Sung by the Neck – Not all buskers are quite what they seem. Not all buses, either, come to that.
Keep Smiling Through – Adults tell children there are no monsters. Most of the time, this is true.
A Gold for Big Ben – A journalist finds himself well and truly sucker-punched in this sporting comeback tale.
I Thought We Was Fam – It’s not easy for young hearts to run free in the “roaring twenties”.
Jeux Sans Frontier – A tale of cruelty and hidden treasure on the banks of the Old Surrey Canal.
The Liberty Bus – The cats are there for a reason but what are they protecting us from?
Slouching to Balham High Street – The Priory broods over the West Streatham woods like a ruined pimp.
The Heavens over Mortlake – A chef finds that the doors of perception can be opened using an Oyster Card.
Karlene at the Crossroads – The top of Streatham Hill provides the solution for all of life’s problems for one bus traveller.
A Year from the Provinces –The number 35 weaved and curved its way north through Borough towards London Bridge then over the water, far away from SE17 and the strangeness it contained.
Bus routes featured include The P13, The 178, The 155, The 185, The 21, The P5, The 47, The 50, The C10, The 356, The 133, The 468, The 196, The 159, The P4, The RV1, The 63, The 315, The 22, The 109, The 35.
161 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 1, 2019
About the author
Chris Roberts
134 books4 followersLibrarian Note:
There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
This profile may contain books from multiple authors of this name.
There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
This profile may contain books from multiple authors of this name.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
April 5, 2020
It's funny. I’ve now spent twice as many years living far from London as I ever spent living there. But my library continues to sprout fresh London-shaped leaves, the old classics and the modern jewels too - Ben Aaronovitch, Benedict Jaka, Paul Cornell, Neverwhere… and now this, a collection of short stories that might well be the most London-y book I’ve ever read.
South London, I should add, as opposed to the rest, and if you’ve lived in the city, you’ll know the difference. But it reflects the entire metropolis anyway, the lost rivers and the likeliest lads, the latest fashions and the latent memories… I’d not thought of the Rat Queen in years, but she’s here in all her terrifying beauty, alongside modern day gangsters and Victorian pugilists, music hall starlets and starry-eyed pirates, parks after dark and and buses. Lots of buses.
Author Roberts makes this clear at the beginning of the book, that the stories go wherever they want, but they stick to the bus routes that run (and are coloured) like blood through the streets, the places they go… the places they don’t go… the sights you will see and the scenes you remember. The book splits into two halves, the first full of buses that everyone sees, the bright red doubledeckers taking shoppers to shops and commuters to work; and the second, the night bus that runs through the wee hours, for the use of a demi-monde of a very different stripe.
Some of the tales are pure urban grit, some are as wyrd as the wildest folk horror, some are straightforward ghostly, some of are almost frighteningly domestic. But all are rooted as firmly to the locales that Roberts describes as any of the buildings, the inhabitants and, yes, the buses, playing out moments or millennia of life, luring, alluring and so alive that your own memories (if you have them) will dovetail with odd flashes, until even bedtime can wait until you’ve finished this story… and the next one… and the next.
Because Roberts might have written twenty-two disconnected short stories, but they weave themselves into one regardless, threads that flow like the 22, the 159, the N155, coming up behind you whether you’re waiting for them or not, doors sliding open, inviting you in… “just a quick ride, my seats are so comfortable, and you’ll get where you’re going so much faster if you do….” If you love London, this book is unforgettable. But if you know her, it’s like coming home.
South London, I should add, as opposed to the rest, and if you’ve lived in the city, you’ll know the difference. But it reflects the entire metropolis anyway, the lost rivers and the likeliest lads, the latest fashions and the latent memories… I’d not thought of the Rat Queen in years, but she’s here in all her terrifying beauty, alongside modern day gangsters and Victorian pugilists, music hall starlets and starry-eyed pirates, parks after dark and and buses. Lots of buses.
Author Roberts makes this clear at the beginning of the book, that the stories go wherever they want, but they stick to the bus routes that run (and are coloured) like blood through the streets, the places they go… the places they don’t go… the sights you will see and the scenes you remember. The book splits into two halves, the first full of buses that everyone sees, the bright red doubledeckers taking shoppers to shops and commuters to work; and the second, the night bus that runs through the wee hours, for the use of a demi-monde of a very different stripe.
Some of the tales are pure urban grit, some are as wyrd as the wildest folk horror, some are straightforward ghostly, some of are almost frighteningly domestic. But all are rooted as firmly to the locales that Roberts describes as any of the buildings, the inhabitants and, yes, the buses, playing out moments or millennia of life, luring, alluring and so alive that your own memories (if you have them) will dovetail with odd flashes, until even bedtime can wait until you’ve finished this story… and the next one… and the next.
Because Roberts might have written twenty-two disconnected short stories, but they weave themselves into one regardless, threads that flow like the 22, the 159, the N155, coming up behind you whether you’re waiting for them or not, doors sliding open, inviting you in… “just a quick ride, my seats are so comfortable, and you’ll get where you’re going so much faster if you do….” If you love London, this book is unforgettable. But if you know her, it’s like coming home.
March 21, 2020
A Hardy for South London
Roberts manages to do for the estates south of the river what Hardy did for Wessex, revealing it to be as good a place for epics and myths as ancient Greece ever was. There's a sprinkling of folklore, but everything feels drawn from life, and left me compulsively returning to read the next story.
The title is a good indication of the author's sly humor, if its deliberate banality doesn't make you smile you'll miss a lot of the subtle joys in good writing (though I feel like many of his protagonists would laugh at me for overanalyzing). Each story has some connection to a bus route, and a narrator who's dealing with a problem from history or myth. They each tell their stories plainly, but with distinctive voices that bring them to life. Roberts has a beautiful ear for dialog, and this is a rare book where I don't even skip the songs and poem fragments interspersed into the prose, he fits them in naturally.
If you're on the fence about this book, ask yourself if you can live without learning more about the Rat Queen, the ghost games of Big Ben Caunt, or knife crime doppelgangers? Give this a try, you won't regret it.
Roberts manages to do for the estates south of the river what Hardy did for Wessex, revealing it to be as good a place for epics and myths as ancient Greece ever was. There's a sprinkling of folklore, but everything feels drawn from life, and left me compulsively returning to read the next story.
The title is a good indication of the author's sly humor, if its deliberate banality doesn't make you smile you'll miss a lot of the subtle joys in good writing (though I feel like many of his protagonists would laugh at me for overanalyzing). Each story has some connection to a bus route, and a narrator who's dealing with a problem from history or myth. They each tell their stories plainly, but with distinctive voices that bring them to life. Roberts has a beautiful ear for dialog, and this is a rare book where I don't even skip the songs and poem fragments interspersed into the prose, he fits them in naturally.
If you're on the fence about this book, ask yourself if you can live without learning more about the Rat Queen, the ghost games of Big Ben Caunt, or knife crime doppelgangers? Give this a try, you won't regret it.
April 18, 2021
A collection of short tales featuring South London, mystical phenomena, interesting characters, London lore and history and many, many buses. Some excellent humour and social observation contribute to the success of this offbeat perspective of 'the other (in many senses) London'.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews