Fife EV buses: I grew up when buses had open platforms and you could jump off while they moved

Friday saw the first electric bus take to the streets in Kirkcaldy, and it was pretty much what you expected - quiet. Very quiet.

The initial surprise at the lack of any sound from the engine as you sit at traffic lights or in a queue of traffic quickly fades, and it becomes just another journey, and one which still ends with the obligatory ‘thank you driver’ message as you get off.

Chatting on board as we headed up Hendry Road and along past Kirkcaldy High School, someone mentioned Buzz Buses - another ‘of its moment’ addition to the town’s bus network a few decades back.

I remember using them to get from Chapelhill, where I stayed in the late 1980s, down to our old office in Kirk Wynd. Pretty sure the fare was 40p - which is exactly 40p more than I pay now as I have an over 60s bus pass. Old age does have some benefits, and so it should.

The newness of the EV buses, complete with USB chargers, and cameras instead of wing mirrors underlines how technology is changing every aspect of our lives and making things easier and more comfortable.

I’m old enough to remember when buses belched noise and fumes, and you bounced uncontrollably on painfully sprung seats as they rumbled along with all the grace of an elephant. They were big, chunky vehicles, and in the 1970s in Edinburgh, double deckers had no back door - just a central pole to hold on to as you wheeched through traffic just inches away from the open platform. A tight winding staircase took you upstairs where everyone smoked, and a brass plaque screwed above the window warned “no spitting.”

From memory, the driver had his own door and no contact with passengers. That job fell to the conductor - or clippie - who churned out wee paper tickets as he went up and down the aisle. I can still picture their uniform, the metal badges they wore, and the peaked hat on their heads.

They also controlled the bus with a ding of their bell in between puffs in their ciggies.

As nippers, we were masters at jumping on and off at the back. It was possible to hop off at traffic lights when the bus was at a halt, and it was also possible to make the jump while it was still moving - you just had to time it right so your wee legs didn’t buckle and face plant you on the pavement.

Conductors never worried us too much, but the inspectors were a different breed. If you’d got on and scooted upstairs without paying and saw one of them at the next stop you were in serious trouble.

Inspectors were dour, miserable men who treated fare dodging as a crime worthy of capital punishment. They were a relic from the days of National Service, and had no time for young whippersnappers who hadn’t paid the correct fare. They too have gone the way of signs banning spitting, but, given the anti-social issues at bus stations, maybe it’s time to bring them back and sort out this generation’s bored youths who are causing chaos. Some things don’t change …