Well I said shake rattle and roll ...

There are words for a vehicle of the quality I am about to describe - clanker, clunker, dunger, clapped-out, bomb, wreck, rattle-trap, dilapitated heap-of-junk.

It thundered up to the bus stop. We intending passengers peered at it intently - keen on establishing just what it was, and where it was going.

Then slowly we made it out - for there taped on the scratched windscreen was what looked like a hastily-scribbled-out note with the number of our bus on it  - 863 express.

It was a relic from, as they say folks, a bygone era. We boarded this travelling museum piece.
It was as dire on the inside with consequences. When it idled, it shook, rattled and vibrated with all the vitality of one of those so-called weight loss machines that supposedly reduce the quivering dimensions of a robust arse.

Well, it shook rattled and rolled us into the city. And I swear I lost 1 kg.

Thanks North Star for this trip back in time to experience a vehicle that would seldom even be found in a third world country.

But the whole thing is also a metaphor - the use of outdated methods or equipment for doing today's task.

The result again is a lot of shake, rattle, and roll and very little progress.