THE half-dozen 14-year-old girls on the bus to Banbury, all dressed to look at least six years older, were each engrossed with a mobile phone.

Nothing unusual in that, I hear you say, and normally I would agree.

But silence ruled among the texting sextet for the entire journey, except for when an incorrect key was struck. A young brow might furrow and a gentle sigh might be heard.

Had parents threatened retribution should any wrong-doing be reported? Were they planning a back-to-school bash with their chums in year whatever?

It was only when our single decker came to a halt in the bus station and my curiosity was close to explosion that an explanation for the silence was cheerfully revealed by one of their number, who identified herself as Chloë. They had been texting and re-texting each other. Boys, make-up, clothes and more boys had been the main topics. No one outside the six had been involved and no other passengers – except myself – had shown the slightest interest or concern. She added the latter as if to seek confirmation.

This was delivered with a verbal torrent from all five. Silence was replaced by a cacophony of excited female voices, each trying to speak above the rest. Some passengers now cast an impatient glance in our direction at this modern-day version of ‘speaking in tongues’.

As for me, I found their happy voices a delight.

While on the topic of buses, once upon a time buses large and small had a crew of two – a driver and a conductor.

The driver kept his eye on the road and his ear listening out for the bell, while the conductor issued tickets and generally watched over the passengers, occasionally casting a disruptive element into the outer darkness.

Now the buses are bigger and there are more passengers. It is left to the driver to do the lot.

I think City of Oxford Bus Company drivers are a splendid group, especially those on the park-and-ride services. Cheerfulness is the name of the game. Grumpiness is rare. What’s more, it’s good to have my opinion confirmed by many visitors to the city.

Have you met a bus driver whose manner has brightened your day? Tell me his or her name. A bit of praise costs nothing.

Life can be confusing enough without billboards displaying messages like this: ‘On sale here. Free Gregg’s sausage roll.’ “Please to explain?” asked a polite Latvian visitor.

I said the sausage roll would be handed out at a Gregg’s bakery shop in exchange for a voucher from a newspaper, which had to be bought – not the Oxford Mail,  I hasten to add.

The visitor lost interest.