At 7 a.m. outside Ferrol’s bus station, commuters check their phones, hoping to find a last-minute carpool. For many, the WhatsApp* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ)* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ) group linking Ferrolterra and A Coruña isn’t merely helpful; it’s impressive. When buses run late or arrive full, and some never show, the group’s 420 members scramble for a seat in someone’s car to get to work or class.
What began as a backup plan has become routine. The chat fills with offers and requests: “Room for two at 8:15?” “Anyone heading back tonight?” People use it to cover the 55 kilometers between two of Galicia’s basic cities. The going rate is 4 euros per ride, enough to cover fuel. The real cost is lost time and growing frustration.
Local press reports that there are only five scheduled bus departures in each direction per day between Ferrol and A Coruña. Journeys take about 1 hour 15 minutes, with up to 12 intermediate stops.
Fernanda Soutullo, who has commuted between Ares and A Coruña for nearly twenty years, calls the WhatsApp* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ)* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ) group a “band-aid on a gaping wound.” She alternates between her own car and “the cursed buses,” but neither is reliable. “I’ve even put up posters in bars looking for carpool partners,” she says. For Fernanda, the group is a last resort when public transport fails, which happens often.
Bea Teijeiro, another longtime commuter, has tried every route except the one that makes sense: the train. “The train would solve everything. What’s killing us is not having it,” she says. After 25 years working in A Coruña, Bea has watched the situation worsen as more people make the same trip and find themselves stranded by scarce buses and no rail connection.
For those living outside Ferrol, the commute is even more complicated. Fernanda’s daily routine is a patchwork: she takes a bus from Ares to Vilar do Colo, then gets a car ride to A Coruña’s bus station before finishing the trip by city bus to her job near the Obelisco. “It’s a puzzle every day,” she says, “and it’s getting worse.”
Local media and social networks describe the Ferrol-A Coruña corridor as a chronic transport crisis, not a series of isolated incidents. Reports cited by La Voz de Galicia say passengers frequently travel standing during peak hours. Recent technical failures have intensified calls for urgent investigation and reform, including a bus breakdown in the O Sartego tunnel on September 11.
Weekend shifts are especially tough. A.B., who works at a hospital, joined the WhatsApp* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ)* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ) group after missing too many buses. “Sometimes the schedule just doesn’t match up, so I use the group as a backup. The bus would be cheapest if it actually worked, but it doesn’t arrive when it’s supposed to,” she says. Many hospital staff say they’d stop driving if public transport were even somewhat reliable.
Missed connections and packed buses are common. “People arrive 15 or 20 minutes early, but if the bus is full, they’re left behind,” Bea says. In those moments, the WhatsApp* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ)* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ) group is the only option. A.B. remembers being turned away from her usual bus and told a backup would come. It arrived 40 minutes late and skipped her stop, so she had to take a taxi and arrived late for her shift.
Carpooling is flexible, but it’s not easy. Riders have to adapt to the driver’s schedule and drop-off points, often rearranging their own plans. “We try to coordinate vacations, and if someone gives me a ride, I fit my day around them,” Fernanda says. To her, carpooling is a patch, not a solution. “The train will come when I’m retired,” she jokes. She’s 54 and still waiting for a real fix.
The sense of being left behind is clear. “Ferrol is one of Galicia’s seven basic cities, but getting from one city to another is a mess,” Fernanda says. Bea is just as doubtful: “I don’t think I’ll ever see a train to Ferrol, but maybe our children or grandchildren will.”
Now, frustration is turning into protest. This Friday, commuters will gather outside the Xunta de Galicia building in Ferrol under the banner “non máis humillacións,” or “no more humiliations.” The demonstration, set for 18:00 on September 18, will highlight missed buses and broken schedules, along with the indignity of standing-room-only rides. Organizers want to put the issue on the political agenda and demand answers for a region that feels forgotten.
As the crisis drags on, the WhatsApp* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ)* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ) group is both a symptom and a warning. It shows how public transport in Galicia has failed, leaving people to improvise with group chats in place of real infrastructure. The situation reflects a wider problem for Spanish commuters, as seen in recent coverage of urban access bans and mobility struggles. Until a real solution arrives, starting with a working train line, people in Ferrolterra will keep relying on group chats and the kindness of strangers. Patchwork fixes can’t replace a transport system that works.
