Trial Run: Diss-mayed, Diss-orientated and Diss-illusioned

Is 'dis Diss?

Right, let's get this Trial Run nonsense nailed down before I get going:

I slept on the bus between Ipswich and Diss. I was that guy you see on night buses, contorted across both seats, who sleeps like dead but wakes at each stop. I left Ipswich in the dusk and arrived in Diss bus station in darkness. The place was deserted apart from a sister and brother of about 9 and 7 sitting in the shelter eating a bag of vinegar with a dash of chipped potatoes; and one bus, lurking furtively, lights off, out of the way. This place was ready to be eaten by the Langoliers.

Having recently woken from fitful sleep, my faculties weren't very cohesive. What route plan I had made the night before had been shot in the paddock. And it was dark and cold. And it was Diss. There seemed to be no information about the bus from here to Norwich. Not even my pal Guy at Traveline could help me out. I started to stress. I started to black out.

My absences last for about half a second each, but they leave me disorientated for a couple of seconds, forgetful of what I was doing or saying. I'll usually have a few of them in each episode. I had around 20 that evening. When I used to drink, I'd have between 50 and 100 on a hangover. It was frustrating because it stopped me from being able to hold a normal conversation or from doing anything. I hardly get them these days, and they're more disguisable than the ones I used to get when I drank. But the thing about them is that, for me, they are brought on and exacerbated by stress. So it becomes a vicious circle, the more I stress the more I have them the more I stress... until I can finally relax.

Back in the Diss bell jar, I was blipping out, trying to hold it together long enough to find out about my bus. The furtive bus behind me came alive with a dim interior light and a cackle. I went over to it and found a 'clutch' of bus drivers sitting around on, I suppose, a break. I asked for their help and they gave me completely false information with unfriendly smirks on their faces. It was only because I got a second opinion from another friendly Polish bus driver round the corner that I didn't waste an hour walking 3 miles to what I had been told was the only stop in Diss with buses to Norwich. That is Diss customer services for you.

My black outs cleared up and my arrival into Norwich brought a contented smile to my bus face. I had every intention of taking the bus from Norwich to Hanworth Post Office, but I was exhausted after 11 hours of travel and my mum persuaded me to stay there and she would pick me up. A fine idea (Don't worry, none of that on the real trip). I sat in Frank's bar and ate a stunning bit of banoffee pie. A good end to an eventful day.