The Spring Clean of the infamous back passage brought to light a collection of old bus tickets yesterday. I have no idea where they come from although I do recall that Uncle Frank had a collection of vintage tickets so they may be part of that. The delight of the tickets is twofold : first the colours (I think we will get the guest bedroom decorated in a colour to match the 2/4 return from Churchridge Luxury Coaches), and secondly the material. Some are printed on that fine old cardboard that used to be the material of choice for railway tickets and has a feeling of real substance about it. Others are printed on thick paper, the kind you could chew on the way home from school and forever more taste that fine combination of printing ink and colour dyes. Tickets back then were tactile, substantial, capable of being recycled endless times as bookmarks or earwax scrapers. Unlike the squalid thin paper excuses you receive today, when you alighted from the bus you didn't cast them aside like bad administrative memories. You saved them, caressed them, and carefully stored them away as gifts for generations yet to be born.