The train journey into the city tends to be unreliable at the moment. Unreliable, unpleasantly crowded, uncomfortable. But this morning was different. This morning I travel to work on the Epping line. Different to usual. I have just dropped my gorgeous little ball of fluff (actually he is not that little anymore) at “Dogs HQ” and now I wait at Collingwood station.
Collingwood station platform is elevated and exposed. There is a small canteen-like building with a roller door shut tight. I wait on the platform. My cheeks start to chill. I am not sure how long I will wait for. There is no timetable printed. I press the green button. But before the informative lady can tell me when the next train will be, the chimes of a pending announcement tell me a train is approaching “on platform one”.
I step into the crowded carriage. I stand facing the door. It feels less crowded that way. And the fresh air gets to you at each stop. I overhear a young guy with a beanie telling his friend about why he was “laughing at 4am”. “It was because I remembered something from Saturday night when Sam was arguing with me about whose underwear he was wearing” he recalls. The Beanie’s friend forces a morning giggle.
I watch the green outside blur into the grey. The sky is blue today. I wish it was warmer.
We stop and start in the usual way. People get on, get off. As we move in and out of the dark tunnels I start to think about the work that awaits me.
The train driver’s voice breaks through the reluctance of Monday morning.
“Hi everyone. Just wanted to let you know we have a few red signals ahead so we might be a little slow moving into Flinders Street.”
Oh, what a surprise! Delayed!
“You know”, he continues “I have been thinking a lot about something and I thought I might as well share it with all of you this morning. See what you think!”.
Well, I never!
“This guy’s a nutcase!” says the Beanie to his friend.
“See, I was in Central Australia recently on holidays. Not sure if you have been there, but it is pretty hot. Lots of flies.”
What on earth! I start to listen. As does everyone without white i-pod wires in ears.
“You might have noticed that the flies hover around your head and just follow you wherever you go. You walk around with a cloud of flies around your head!”
I think of the warmth of Central Australia. I identify with the annoying flies.
“And when you stop to speak to someone, they have their cloud of flies with them. You start to chat and your flies all mix up!”
Its fabulous! I have a smile on my face. On a Monday morning!
“And then, when you are finished talking to your mate, you both walk off and you have your cloud of flies with you again.”
I wonder about this cheerful driver. I try to imagine what he looks like. Perched up there at the front of the train. Is he skinny? Does he have a smile on his story-telling face? Or is he serious and inquisitive?
“Well, what I want to know, is whether the cloud of flies you each walk away with after your chat are the same flies you started with before you stopped to chat or whether you have walked away with some of each other’s!”
It is a simplistic but interesting question. I must admit. I almost resume my work ahead thinking.
“And I’ve decided.” He continues, “next time I go up there I am going to wait until dusk when the flies all calm down by the water and I am going to put a little spot of white paint on each of them so I can tell for sure!”
I giggle into the window. I glance around the carriage. I have never seen so many smiles on a Monday morning train. We arrive at Flinders street. The crowd begins to shuffle and move.
The train trip to work was different this morning. The driver made me smile.
