I was buoyed up by that optimistic piece in the Chronicle last week headlined ‘Control Over Bus Services Edging Closer’ as the long journey towards the South Yorkshire Mayoral Combined Authority running the buses takes another step forward because, let’s face it, the buses can’t continue as they are.

As you know, I live in Darfield and we’ve just had our 218 service filleted, to use a polite term. The bus used to be every half-hour, reliably able to take us into Barnsley one way and all the way to Rotherham the other way.

Now for most of the day there’s one an hour, which becomes less of a bus service and more of a special excursion.

A half-hourly bus, I reckon, is the least a passenger can ask for. You miss a bus and there’s half an hour to wait; if you live near enough to the bus stop you can nip home for a minute.

If you’re feeling fit and healthy you can walk to the next bus stop or the one beyond. If you’ve got a book with you, you can sit in the bus shelter and read a couple of chapters. And then the bus arrives and off you go.

The hourly bus becomes more of an occasion. You set off in plenty of time to catch the bus because you want to be first at the stop. No chance, you raggedy old optimist!

The bus isn’t due for 20 minutes but there are six people at the bus stop already and it turns out they’re the ones who couldn’t get on the previous bus because it was full. People continue to arrive. Students wanting to get to college. Folks needing to get to work. People who want to get some shopping done. A bloke eager to meet up with his old mate for a cuppa. The bus shelter fills up. Then it fills up some more. Then it fills up some more.

I look at the app and the bus is due; I can see that it’s on its way through Millhouses. It’s just making its steady way to The Ring. I like the Stagecoach app; it’s about the only thing about their service that I do like. You can track the bus all the way to your stop and the app is usually pretty accurate so if the bus is late you can stay in the house a few minutes longer. They’re good at apps, they just need to put more buses on them.

The bus arrives. It sweeps past. It’s full. An hour until the next one unless you go for the hourly 219 or the more-or-less hourly X19. The X19 used to be every half-hour, like the 218. Now it isn’t. The X19 used to go on long into the evening. Now it doesn’t.

I know, I think I’ll go into town on the bus and sample some of the culinary delights of the new and exciting town centre and then I’ll get the bus back later on. I’ll go in at teatime and come back at, say 8pm. Well, the last X19 leaves Barnsley at 6.25. Okay then, I’ll get the 218. Ah: the last 218 leaves Barnsley at 6.53. Okay then, I’ll go for that reliable old workhorse, the 219. Ah: there’s a 219 from Barnsley to Darfield at 8.50, but if I miss that because I’m enjoying a poet-meal espresso, the next one isn’t until 10.50. That’s a lot of time to linger over an espresso. A bus every two hours: that’s like waiting for a comet to pass across the sky.

You’re right. It’s pathetic. It’s not a service, it’s a grudging fulfilling of an obligation to schedule some buses. Ironically, September is Catch The Bus Month when we’re being encouraged to leave the car at home (and I can’t drive so I can’t leave it at home) and catch the bus.

There’s lots of advertising showing shiny happy people sitting on brand-new buses going wherever the aforementioned shiny happy people want to go at all hours of day and night. Contrast that with people sitting in the bus station waiting two hours for the 219.

I’m an optimist and a utopian so I look forward to the bus every half hour, the bus every 15 minutes. I look forward to the early morning buses and the late night buses.

You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one: we’re all here, in the bus shelter, waiting for the 218.