Where it began, I can't begin to knowin'

Over the last few days, I've spoken to as many of my neighbours as I have in the rest of the other 3 years that I've lived in this street. Everyone is very curious and intrigued by the bus. A lot have read about me in the past in the local paper so they've guessed that I am preparing for another adventure.

Today Junior my neighbour from next door, came to hang out in the evening in the bus and chew the fat. He'd come round this morning to see the progress too before setting off for work. Lynn from the other side is very jealous and now she want a bus made of rubbish. She's got a shower curtain for me.

A guy that was driving past stopped to ask me what it was all about and if I knew a mechanic that would look at this veg powered merc. I put him on to P. round the corner, who gave me the most lenient MOT on my car. I wish I could fit the bus in his garage. The double glazing fitter, Hamid from Afghanistan came over after spotting the rear window on the bus, and offered me some repair adhesive in case the tank has a leak. - He told me Baluchistan is really dangerous, and not to go there. And a guy from Guyana asked me all about it cos he wants to take a bus back home with him when he moves back after 20 years living in the UK.

My street is really friendly anyway, and maybe it's the summer effect too, but I think as much as anything it's the bus that brings out friendly side to people. Funny how vehicles can do that. Touching me, touching you...

Today I also learnt about a squatters commune in Zurich that are focused on recycling. They have commandeered a disused factory. It reminded me that although this is all new and exciting to me, actually there is a wide traveller community that out of financial necessity recycle, repair and generally make use of the stuff they find. I was tryng to think why what I am doing is different.

It reminded me of a story a friend John told me. He lived in a horse drawn trailer for a number of years, and wherever he parked little old ladies would bring him out a cup of tea or a freshly baked pie. Then he sold his trailer and horse and moved into a converted hippy bus. The same little old ladies would then call the police and tell him to fuck off when he tried to park in the same places.

I'm really keen to visit the Swiss community and see if there is something practical I can contribute to the group and learn from them.