THE Spirit of the Blitz.
What's that then? The essence of being British, or a concept as outdated as typewriters and outdoor lavatories.
With the recent snowfall bringing roads, schools, hospitals, housing estates and businesses to their knees, commentators and politic
ianADVERTISEMENTs appealed for us all to rediscover that fighting spirit.
That 'Spirit' lasted about two days until the novelty of actual snow during the winter wore off and everyone started moaning about the cold weather.
It's lucky that during the actual Blitz, the German Luftwaffe didn't drop snow on Britain – otherwise the last 65 years may have panned out differently.
Britain's inability to cope with even the slightest hint of 'unusual' weather tends to send us all in a tizzy, as if snow in December and January is unheard of.
Drivers are the worst for this, but maybe I'm biased.
You see, I don't drive. I can drive, of course, but after consulting with the DVLA we both decided that it's unwise for me to do so before I actually pass one of its tests.
So when the first pre-Christmas snow fell, I knew what was coming – a torrent of texts, calls and emails from friends who hadn't set foot on a bus in years.
"I need to get from Leeds to Huddersfield and the trains are off!
What bus?! How?!", read one.
"Need to get to Bradford, no trains. Stuck. Help please!", read another.
Finally, the snow gave me a level playing field.
The best part has been hearing their wide-eyed stories of bus travel over the last few weeks.
Most of them have been car-owners since their late teens and therefore have been spared the infuriating lottery of whether trains and buses are going to arrive and depart on time.
Since their first forays into bus travel, they've all developed a haunted look about them and they talk of their journeys in hushed tones. Some have been scared off public transport entirely and one girl I know is convinced that a major travel operator has a secret vendetta against her, after two scheduled buses failed to turn up on time.
Their biggest revelation was the discovery of electronic time tables – which claim to give a real-time estimate of when a bus is likely to arrive – and just how inaccurate their predictions are.
For them, it was like being told by an older brother on Christmas Eve that Santa doesn't exist - and the tooth fairy probably doesn't either.
The benefit of being a regular bus passenger is that you come to treat such predictions with a world-weary sigh.
You wouldn't trust a bus-stop display with choosing your lottery numbers, so why pin your travel hopes to it?
And so, the Big Freeze begats the Big Thaw and the normal balance has been restored.
My friends are back behind the wheel and I remain a perpetual pedestrian, forever shivering at the roadside.
ben.morgan@ywng.co.uk
* Adam Wolstenholme is away
