More on public transport
I guess some people are so committed/entrenched in their lives of cycling or catching buses around the place, that it's not such a big deal. But it's new to me, of late, and it's taking me back to my roots and I'm noticing some things compared to last time.
1998-2002: No Car
Firstly this was for financial reasons (I used my car insurance money to move to Sydney) and then for pragmatic reasons (I used my savings to buy property). The second half of this carless odyssey saw me lavishly catching taxis, cycling at night and also living so close to the city that walking or catching buses or getting lifts with people wasn't such a big deal. My social life was never compromised (though the work commute by bus was hard); whereas in Sydney I was often spending an hour or two travelling before I reached the main event. Having friends who've admitted to catching public transport in fancy dress (hello JRSM) I can recognise that there are 2 types of people. And I was one of the contemplative people first time round; and not the second time round.
2008:
This time round, catching buses and trains, I am very aware that there's a class system going on. The people on the bus aren't there by choice. They don't have cars and they're not fit enough to cycle or they can't. Babies in prams, groceries in bags, legs that limp, dependent beings. They have to catch the bus, and it's a long slow journey: a trip that takes 10 minutes by car can take up to 45 minutes by public transport. These are people ruled by external timetables.
Then I catch the bus up north, and notice how many little old ladies there are, fighting their way from train to the connecting bus, grabbing country link staff for reassurance, organising 3 people long queues to check luggage on, fighting for the front bus seats. And whilst I find them quite annoying, I wonder if I will ever resemble them. If this is where you eventually end up when you make the pragmatic decision to give away the car, but still want to go places without planes. Are these ladies actually feisty old women who should be applauded for getting out there? What about all the invisible people at home, that are away from observation? Had to admire the deceivingly frail looking lady that was befriending all the tattooed young men on the train with her jaunty talk.. she lined up a youngster with a laptop who walked her to the front of the bus queue (where she winked at me), and I wondered who she was and where she was going.
Kind of reminded me of years ago, when I sat on the bus behind an elderly lady wearing a felt fedora and rainproof trench coast, who was rereading a letter from a friend, typed print that rapturously described a Central Australian visit and the glory of seeing the "red red earth and the blue blue sky".
1998-2002: No Car
Firstly this was for financial reasons (I used my car insurance money to move to Sydney) and then for pragmatic reasons (I used my savings to buy property). The second half of this carless odyssey saw me lavishly catching taxis, cycling at night and also living so close to the city that walking or catching buses or getting lifts with people wasn't such a big deal. My social life was never compromised (though the work commute by bus was hard); whereas in Sydney I was often spending an hour or two travelling before I reached the main event. Having friends who've admitted to catching public transport in fancy dress (hello JRSM) I can recognise that there are 2 types of people. And I was one of the contemplative people first time round; and not the second time round.
2008:
This time round, catching buses and trains, I am very aware that there's a class system going on. The people on the bus aren't there by choice. They don't have cars and they're not fit enough to cycle or they can't. Babies in prams, groceries in bags, legs that limp, dependent beings. They have to catch the bus, and it's a long slow journey: a trip that takes 10 minutes by car can take up to 45 minutes by public transport. These are people ruled by external timetables.
Then I catch the bus up north, and notice how many little old ladies there are, fighting their way from train to the connecting bus, grabbing country link staff for reassurance, organising 3 people long queues to check luggage on, fighting for the front bus seats. And whilst I find them quite annoying, I wonder if I will ever resemble them. If this is where you eventually end up when you make the pragmatic decision to give away the car, but still want to go places without planes. Are these ladies actually feisty old women who should be applauded for getting out there? What about all the invisible people at home, that are away from observation? Had to admire the deceivingly frail looking lady that was befriending all the tattooed young men on the train with her jaunty talk.. she lined up a youngster with a laptop who walked her to the front of the bus queue (where she winked at me), and I wondered who she was and where she was going.
Kind of reminded me of years ago, when I sat on the bus behind an elderly lady wearing a felt fedora and rainproof trench coast, who was rereading a letter from a friend, typed print that rapturously described a Central Australian visit and the glory of seeing the "red red earth and the blue blue sky".
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