I rode the city rail limo to Circular Quay yesterday, from my home town, that involves both country and city services, and I believe that every venture made on NSW public transport system, deserves its own blog post.
The beginning of my journey was fairly uneventful, except for the fact that the air con was blasting out icy and frigid air at 100k's an hour in my general direction, and I was really grateful that I wore a padded bra.
I know that A LOT of people from the Southern highlands wear tweed jackets with tartan scarves all year round, and I'd probably like to make fun of them too, but that was just ridiculous.
When I caught my connecting city service train, I had the fortune of spending an unnecessarily large amount of time at Campbelltown Station.
For those of you who do not know Campbeltown station, it's quite a delight. In fact,
if I didn't feel as though I may eventually end up face down a field somewhere, then I could people watch there all day.
We sat on the train at Campbelltown for quite some time.
The doors announcing imminent departure with, "Please stand clear, doors closing." ......Only the doors wouldn't close, so the train kept repeating "Please stand clear doors closing", willing the doors to obey, only they wouldn't listen!
After about ten minutes of this the engine stopped, and shortly after, a man clad in city rail uniform stomped red face down the carriage, and let me tell you... "Sir Topham Hat" he was not.
He let fly to another man in matching uniform, with a barrage of "How the Fark do you get the farking emergency door to stop farking blinking at me"
Now that my friends, was not the chuggington experience that Ms Gladys had envisioned.
As I still felt safer on the clearly faulty train than I did on the station, I waited it out and before too long, I made the rest of my uneventful trip to Circular Quay.
Now, I was running a little late for my returning train as the Norton Event I attended was delightful. This can hardly be blamed on city rail, so much as it was clearly Nortons Fault, for providing me with such an engaging event in such spectacular company, however I managed to get back to Central Station with 38seconds to spare to be able to catch the ONLY country train to provide a straight through service, thus avoiding another change at Campbelltown.
The bastard was on time for the first time in history, so I of course missed it,
however I relished in my opportunity to read a book, tarnished only by the ambience of the man who sat next to me, he managed to make a whistling noise EVERYTIME he breathed out of his nose and he smelt of prawn chips.
Breathe through your gosh darned mouth- Ned Flanders.
I changed at Campbelltown, and by this stage I was tired, my feet hurt and I could smell PrawnChip Mc Whistle nose everywhere because City rail must have got my earlier tweet about it being colder than a witches nipple, and cut of the air con, so I was far too irritated to be concerned about my safety.
By this time I would have welcomed an attack, as a chance to hit someone in the head with my hand bag would have been momentarily satisfying.
Nothing more of note happened, and I safely made it home.
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