Dear Sir,

Fred Karno would have felt quite at home in the International Station yesterday.
We went to renew our TIB bus passes.
Little did we realise that this would take place in a kind of “bike shed,” where we joined a long queue being dealt with by a lone, hard-pressed young lady, who apart from issuing TIB passes, had from time to time, leave her desk to go and unlock a store and drag out bicycles, then armed with a spanner she set about making adjustments. This performance perforce took some time and the queue had grown to about 60.