My first month commuting, in Hong Kong, I just rode the subway and walked. Simple.

But that was when I was staying a few steps or a few blocks from the MTR/metro/subway.

Now that I am in Mid-Levels … getting to the office in North Point is a longer and trickier proposition. Because getting to the subway is a trickier proposition. It’s a long walk either way you do it, descending 300-plus steps to the Sheung Wan station, taking the metro, going to work … or taking the crawling escalators up from Central, on the way back. And, really, either way, you’re going to be sweaty (if not soaked) by the time you get where you’re going. It’s a sweaty town.

I could cab it, sit inside an air-conditioned car, but 60 HK dollars (the fare from Mid-Levels to North Point) seems lavish when a subway ride is 5.40.

Thus, I considered my alternatives.

And now I am at, yes, the mini bus.

I have seen the little buses from the start. But I looked right through them. Past them. As they barreled down the narrow streets, looking rickety and random. Something for locals.

They’re overgrown vans, really. Capable of seating 16, six rows of two, four individual seats on the other side of the aisle. Most minis are painted green, though some are red and operated differently. I haven’t even figured out the red mini buses yet.

But the green … those are more official.

The thing about the mini bus? One zooms right past the tower I’m living in now, and it has “North Point” in lights above the driver’s head. North Point is where I want to go. So, my interest was piqued. North Point isn’t a big neighborhood. If the bus went anywhere in there, I would be close to the office.

Some things about the mini buses, and I learned these before I boarded one.

–They don’t have schedules. They come along when they come along. You might see two No. 56 buses in 20 seconds, and not see another for 15 minutes.

–They don’t have clearly designated stops. Well, not more than a few, for dropoffs. The driver stops when you ask him to. Unless you’re in a mini bus with a ringer system, and those seem to be the exception. Generally you wave or shout, the driver acknowledges you, he swerves over to the curb, you scamper out the accordion door. The process is a bit more exact when you speak Cantonese, of course.

–They don’t take on more passengers than they have seats. The end. No standing. So if all the seats are taken, and you’re waving at the driver from the curb … he will wave back (and keep driving), indicating he’s full up.

So, anyway, knowing most of this I went ahead and took the plunge. Because I wanted to get to the office for the equivalent of $1 US and in an AC environment.

So, here’s the deal.

The mini bus, one not full, that is, can and will stop anywhere. Every 50 yards, if someone is waving and there is an empty seat. On Caine Road up here in Mid-Levels, early in the ride, the 56 gets lots of business. Mostly, it fills up as people Up Here try to get Down There. Thus, it might take 10 minutes to go a half-mile. Because of all the stopping and because of the traffic.

What you hope for … is a full bus. Then the driver just keeps driving and you can make up time. Turns out, midday, the 56 likely will be full before it hits the end of Caine Road, and you can drive along almost as quickly as a cab.

Eventually, someone gets out of the bus, and you’re open to stopping again. But fewer people ride the bus over the last half of its route. So it goes a bit faster.

Either way, it’s not getting anywhere in a major hurry. Because the bus is taking the scenic route. It must be on 20 different streets between here and North Point. Always steering toward where people are. Which means lots of pedesrians and cars and stop lights. (The upside? You see neighborhoods you’ve never seen before.)

Thus, a mini bus trip is a crap shoot. It might be 30 minutes. But it also could be 40, the next day. Depends on how many stops, how many red lights, how many streets are torn up for repair.

But you do get to sit in an air-conditioned environment.

Turns out the 56 gets within one long block of where I work before it turns away from where I want to go. So I get up and wave at the driver, and he gets my drift, and pulls over, and there I am.

Going back … I went to the same spot I exited the bus, figuring the bus must do some circular route … but the 56 drove right past me, when it finally came, after a 10-minute wait at about 10 p.m.

The bus wasn’t empty. I was puzzled. Eventually I decided there must be some new point of departure, for going back up the hill, and walked to the corner to see where the bus had turned — and there in front of an off-track betting parlor were about six No. 56s, all in a row, with drivers hanging out, having a coffee, etc. And I was the first passenger on the next one out.

However … it turns out that the return trip gets me to Mid-Levels — but not to Bonham Road.

I was the last person on the bus, after we had battled across the plains and then up into the hills, figuring I was close to Bonham — when the driver pulled over on a street named Lyttleton, stopped, opened the door … and looked up at me expectantly.

Mini bus drivers do not seem to be English-adept, and I brought up “Bonham Road” except in the Cantonese version I have been taught, which is “Pon-hom Doe.” The driver looked at me with no comprehension. And then he said, “termine,” like the French do (a Cantonese, speaking French?), and that was how he told me this was the end of the line.

So I got out. Not at all sure where I was.

I was up in the hills, without a map, and I could flag a taxi, worst-case, but I sensed I was close. I turned around and followed the path of the departing mini bus …. and saw a “road” that was actually a set of stairways that appeared to descend next to a park-like terraced area, remembering there is a park near where I stay … but this wasn’t the same park.

However, just when I was starting to consider myself an idiot, anew, for not checking this out more thoroughly, and accepting the looming defeat of flagging down a cab … I recognized a landmark, as I stumbled downhill. An HSBC bank, and I knew where I was. On Bonham Road. And a five-minute walk later I was “home.”

So.

So.

The mini bus? An option. I have to be on the street earlier to make sure I catch one in time to make the office by 2 p.m., ein case the bus is slow/delayed. I don’t have the exactitude of a subway ride and a walk of a known length.

And coming back? Unless I want to pay full-fare anew (another $1 down the drain!?!) … I will have the guy stop a bit earlier, to shorten my walk down to Bonham. But I will have to walk; none of this idea of having the mini bus take me to the front door.

So. It’s doable. Cheap, air-conditioned, slow. But doable.

Rather thoroughly ad hoc, improvised. But that somehow seems very Hong Kong.

Oh, and one last thing: It’s a little bit of a scary/barf-ride. I have to add that.

I’ve been on three of these, and all three were driven by guys who seemed deep into “road rage”. They jump away on green lights as if they’re running a quarter mile in a dragster. They slam on the brakes every few minutes, just for fun, because surely they can anticipate the issue ahead that I, a mere passenger, can see. I’m guessing one near-accident per trip is the norm.

Thus, there is a lot of to-and-fro, back-and-forth, side-to-side movement, in the bus, starting from the first seconds, when the driver is already hitting the gas while you’re trying to pay and find a seat. I don’t get motion sickness in vehicles, generally, but I am a little queasy at the end of a mini bus ride. Just saying. Some people perhaps would be nauseated.

Me and the mini bus. I believe we will become more fully acquainted over the next few weeks.