We’re cursed, I tell you
The temperature was up in the high 30s today (Yank conversion: around 100 degrees). It was hot as hell with not a cloud in the sky… and the public transport system decided to give us hell. A friend and I were going back home from a BBQ at Coogee beach. Bus to Central Station, Train to Ashfield Station. Should be a 30 minutes trip, tops. Uh huh.
You’ll need this map if you want to follow my story and you aren’t a Sydney-sider.
The bus to Central was fine. We wait at Central. The first train to Ashfield that arrives is jam-packed, so we wait for the next train, which might be an express, if we’re lucky. Deciding to give the frist train a miss was a mistake. Twenty minutes later, the second train pulls up. While it wasn’t an express, at least there was room to breathe in the carriage. Some derro (slang for derelict, in case you are unaware) was sitting on the stairs that go to the upper carriage level. He wouldn’t move, so people had to clamber over him to get to the exit, eliciting comments from people such as, “You stupid fucking old fart.” The doors shut, but the train didn’t move. The heat was making everyone lethargic. The silence in the carriage was punctuated by the derro mumbling some weird shit – “How’s your mum? Oh you don’t have a mum or dad,” and “Fuck this. Don’t have one.” I don’t think anyone was in a mood today to be sympathetic or empathetic.
Five minutes later, an announcement comes. The train has broken down, catch it from the other platform. But someone forgot to open the train doors, and we were effectively locked in. People started hammering on the doors. Finally someone forced the door open and jammed it. We got to the platform we were referred to and caught a train to Town Hall. Since the entire line we were travelling on was blocked by the train on Central, we headed for the bus stop. However, it was announced that “due to a fault in a train in Central, trains on the Granville line will leave from Platform 6 instead of 1.” We turned around – they had rerouted the trains! Now some people don’t have any frigging common sense. We headed down the escalator to Platform 6, and the train’s there just about to depart. The problem is, no one had the consideration to keep to the left on the escalator, and although we were in a rush to catch the train that was about to leave, there were thirty people blocking us. Luckily, we managed to claw our way to the train. Except that this train wasn’t going to Central. It was going the other way (further away from Ashfield), and to make matters worse, it was on another line. The train made a lap of the city circle (via Circular Quay – see map) and stopped about 100 metres before Central station. Shit. The broken-down train had well and truly stuffed everything – it hadn’t been moved yet, and until it did, we weren’t going anywhere. So we baked for another interminable period and finally dismounted at Redfern, the last stop before the the lines (train routes) diverged and we ended up somewhere obscure.
At Redfern, we walked to the correct platform. The “next train” board said, “First Stop, Ashfield.” Shit! We snagged an express! Should be home in 5 minutes. Then the conductor popped out of his room, retracted the “First Stop, Ashfield” sign, and replaced it with an “All Stops” sign. Bull. No, not just bull, but bull + shit. The train came, we got on, the doors shut and the train didn’t move. Five minutes later they announced they had made a mistake with the train’s destination. They told the new destination, which sent everyone clambering for the route maps, but fortunately Ashfield was still one of the stops. The train didn’t blow up or get hijacked, which we were half expecting.
The whole journey took over two hours. Funny how everything stuffs up in the worst possible weather conditions.
(Sorry about the grammar, I’m aware I’ve switched from past tense to present tense and back again several times.)
1:20am (GMT +10.00) tomorrow 
