At the bus station

I love passing through Madrid’s busy Intercambiador de Moncloa bus station. I walk slowly as waves of people pass from all directions, moving between myriad bus departure points, the link with the metro system, the escalators up to the outside world.

Hundreds of faces from numerous cultures, countries, places, backgrounds… and all essentially the same. A moving, miraculous bundle of cells and energy. That’s it. No difference between any of us at all at a basic level. I find an end to discrimination and labelling and fear of ‘the other’ easy and obvious when I see that. Thanks to the bus station. I used to find it stressful, so much busy, criss-crossing humanity, now I find it fascinating.

2 thoughts on “At the bus station

  1. Same here at Atlanta airport. A myriad of different looking people all heading towards their destination, all made up of the same building material: human cells and energy, like you said. There’s no better place to realize the diversity of mankind than crowded stations, airports, or streets. You then acknowledge that color, race, religion or orientation don’t matter.


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