By Mike Huber
Ok, so throughout my life I have tended to do a LOT of dumb stuff. Almost daily anyone around me is questioning how I am still alive. This is no exaggeration, but there is one activity I partook in that is by far the most reckless. That is riding on the Fung Wah Bus. Recently I was in a bar in Boston (yes, imagine that) and I was telling the story of the Fung Wah bus, which entertained the entire bar for close to an hour. My stories of this legendary form of transit must have been quite epic as when cashing out I was told my entire tab had been paid. So I thought a write up on my experiences around this hazardous mode of transportation would make for a fun read.
The Fung Wah Bus isn’t in service anymore for reasons described below. It was a $10 bus ride from South Station in Boston to Chinatown in New York City. I was 27 years old, living just north of Boston. A close friend was in New York City. The bus always arrived on time, there was no hassle with airports, and it was just easy.
I was alerted to the dangers of this bus when I arrived to work on Monday. My manager asked what I had done that weekend. I replied I had gone to Manhattan to hang out with a friend. He asked how the flight was. “Flight?” I asked. “I didn’t fly. I took the Fung Wah Bus.” He doubled over laughing and said he paid me enough to do better, which was followed by several explicit adjectives. I still heard him ranting about it an hour or so later. I was a bit taken aback.
It didn’t take long for me to realize the history of this bus and the numerous safety violations and failed inspections that made taking this bus not only risky, but in hindsight, downright dangerous. Massachusetts had even shut the service down a few times over the years. These busses were flipping over, catching on fire, and wheels were falling off. Outside that, though, the busses ran on time, no matter the amount of traffic or weather conditions. They had this trip down to an art. It was so honed that once when I was stuck in traffic on the Cross Bronx Expressway, a few cars in front of me I spotted a Fung Wah bus. Here’s my chance! I followed it off the expressway as it zigged and zagged through the narrow surface streets until it returned to the now less-congested expressway. I felt like a running back following a lineman as a blocker until I could see the end zone. What a rush!
With it being a 4-hour ride, the driver would always stop at a Roy Rodgers Restaurant for a few minutes to allow you to stretch, grab a bite to eat, and pray to the God of your choice for a safe remainder of the trip. To this day having driven that stretch hundreds of times in my car I never saw that restaurant unless I was on the Fung Wah. Wherever the bus exited the highway, we all went into Narnia.
At the end of the day the Fung Wah never disappointed and although the bus was decommissioned like Old Ironsides, it provided some great stories and an economical way to get to New York City. As I sat in a Boston bar finishing my Sam Adams, I was thankful to the mysterious patron who got my tab. I am fortunate that this experience (riding the Legendary Fung Wah Bus) crossed my path.
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