Ran out onto Beverley Road on Friday, to catch a bus to town. It was about nine thirty and I’d just missed a 105, and with Hull Fair on, I wasn’t exactly hopeful. But lo and behold a bus came into view. One with no number or destination board. I hailed it, anyway, and surprisingly it stopped; a couple of men got off, I got on and asked the driver if he could take me to town. “Sure”, he said, “Call it 50p”. “Bargin!”, I thought.Then I noticed the smell. The entire bus smelt of raw meat; turns out the men were the last of the (predominantly Polish, apparently) slaughterhouse workers he’d been dropping off after picking them up somewhere out near Leconfield. Since he was now just heading back to the depot, he was kind enough to drop me off right in the middle of the old town, exactly where I wanted to be! Hurrah for friendly Hull bus drivers!