By Algernon

I’ve returned to using public transport as a means of getting to work after years of driving. I’ve been interested watching how people stand and react waiting to catch various modes of transport. I drive Algernonia the elder to school for her early periods a few days per week the then catch a ferry. On other days I walk down to the corner and catch an express bus to the city.

Sydney’s public transport is much maligned. Decades of inaction by both sides of politics. Failure to build proper heavy rail to new housing estates like Rouse Hill twenty years ago instead building an inadequate M2 from nowhere to nowhere, then writing punitive damages into the contract should one be built. The utter stupidity of stopping the Parramatta to Chatswood rail link at Epping and thus consigning Macquarie Park to be in a form of traffic gridlock from 6:00am till 7:00pm on weekdays. On top of that there is only talk about additional rail being build under the city to cope with additional demand.

I’m fortunate however, working near Wynyard station that I can alight from my bus at the first bus stop in York Street, the short trip down to Town Hall can take as long as the trip to the city. Going home it’s the last bus stop with the bus then taking the freeway and Lane Cove tunnel before its first stop. I generally end up with a seat both ways, same on the ferry. Work colleagues who live in the Hills district tell me of having to stand for two or more hours a day.

There are some interesting characters on both forms and how they act, whilst waiting.

Firstly the ferry, they’re a fairly talkative bunch which catch the ferry, with plenty of banter before the ferry arrives. Once on the ferry the banter stops. One group of around seven in particular seems to do the same thing every day. One of the group, will take their position at the front of the queue, there rest will arrive and then congregate together. It’s not like they’re pushing in. Once the ferry arrives they go to the outdoor part at the back of the ferry, they don’t necessarily take up a seat and continue their conversation all the way to King Street where we all get off. Their conversation is nearly always positive.  Most of the rest seem quite orderly and tend not to push in with the exception of one girl though nobody gets too excited. Most have their noses stuck in front of their electronic devices. The thing I like about the ferry is that it runs on time. Only twice inbound during the year did it run late and that was mechanical. Outbound also twice and one of those reasons was mechanical. They told us to catch a particular ferry and change at Cockatoo Island where a ferry was waiting. Pity it was pouring with rain at the time.

The bus has its characters too. Inbound is rarely late as our stop is the fourth on an express route. Homebound though is a lottery.

It’s a smaller crowd catching the bus in. One in particular we’ll call Beryl. Nice as at the stop chats with everyone and has interest in all those that catch the bus. Once there is sight of the bus though, Beryl becomes the bus Nazi. Woe and behold if the bus runs late, if the air conditioning is too cold, that is when the bus has air conditioning or someone dares to sit in her seat. Or a particularly mad woman bus driver is driving the bus. Beryl would be in her late fifties I’d guess. Even if she’s the last person to arrive she’ll almost insist on being the first person on. We just oblige knowing where she is aiming for.

Homebound well that’s a different story. Rare if ever on time and plenty more Beryls trying to catch it. She’ll push and barge here way to somewhere near the front of the queue along with all the others trying to barge their way to the front. One Chinese bloke has these silver things stick out of his ears. I think he feels they make him look invisible. The best way to deal with him I’ve found is to stand your ground. If he wants to get in front of you he has to walk in front of a bus. Another has his wife hog a seat for him. He’s not adverse to hitting and pushing people as he once did to me. I had to point out to him that you couldn’t go around hitting and pushing people at bus stops on a crowded bus.

I’ve run into someone I worked with who catches the same bus home he had looked familiar. He asked me if I was Algernon I couldn’t remember his. It had been about 15 years since we had last worked together. We compare notes about Beryl; she hasn’t been any different according to him.

Now wet weather makes the buses do odd things. Maybe it’s because people in Sydney forget how to drive when it rains, like they’ve never seen it. Does odd things to the punters too. One person stood in front of an oncoming bus with his umbrella to stop the damn thing, didn’t help.  Beryl of cause goes completely ballistic as it might be 40 minutes late. Seems to forget that the traffic wasn’t moving at all on Clarence Street and the Bridge resembled a car park. She urges me to write to our state local member, he’ll fix things she says. In fact any time the bus is late she fires of a letter to him.  Blowed if I know how he stops the rain from falling or what he does about the traffic.

After 20 years of travelling to and from work by car, I’m finding I’m less stressed by taking public transport. Except perhaps when it rains.