Going to Gallway

This morning, Rosie and I were waiting by the bus stop on the side of the road for the 1:40 bus to Gallway, when along came a small green bus at 1:35. We asked the bus driver if he was going to Gallway, and he said, "Gallway? You are trying to go to Gallway? Well, Christ. You can't get to Gallway from here. I'll tell you what, just hop on and um, I'll bring you ten minutes down the road where there is a bus stop to Gallway. You can be sure to get a ride there." And so we hopped on with a shrug as he refused to charge us anything. Pretty soon we were racing by the country side, being introduced over the buses intercom, hearing the histories of castles off in the distance and stopping by famine cottages. We found out that the Ford's, Kennedy's and Reagan's all came from such abandonded stone cotages. Then, we drove out to this huge outcropping of stone, and were told this is where we wait for a bus. There was a five foot shoulder and no bus stop sign. We were in the middle of nowhere. However, the bus driver did make sure that we had a sign that read "Gallway Please." It seemed like we had been takin out of civilization, where a bus was scheduled to come, and dumped on the corner of the world, where a ride seemed a little unlikely. However after a minute, we were picked up by some people from Philladelphia. They were able to take us all of the way to Gallway, and we ended up spending not a penny getting there. With a wonderful story to boot.