I’ve been on a post-work train for a week and there are plenty of times I don’t want to be a passenger on the train.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked myself, “Why am I on this train?”
The train is not only full of strangers, but there are also lots of passengers who are not happy and are uncomfortable with my presence.
There are plenty who refuse to leave their seats, even though I’ve never actually been on the platform.
It’s also not just post-schoolers who are uncomfortable.
The first time I got on a train in Sydney, I got the feeling that there was something about the train that made me feel unsafe.
There were plenty of people I knew I’d never met before on the line.
A few of them were actually on the same train as me.
The idea that people might be so fearful of you is a little strange, given that we’re all strangers.
But the fact that the train was full of them made me think I was more at risk of being in a train accident than anyone else on the other train.
In my mind, I was almost at the risk of death.
The train was travelling at 55 kilometres an hour, and I was travelling through the middle of nowhere.
I wasn’t going to be on the next train out at the time, but I didn’t know how long it would take to get there.
I was also aware that my safety was at risk.
In the first few days of my journey, I’ve struggled to make it out of my home state of New South Wales, where I’ve lived for most of my life.
It was only when I arrived at my final destination in Queensland, the Gold Coast, that I felt safe enough to return to my home.
The same train I was on when I left home, however, was travelling slower.
This was an older, faster train, travelling at a speed of 35 kilometres an inch.
This meant that the first 10 minutes or so on the trip, I had no idea how fast the next section of track would be.
I had only a couple of hours to get home.
As soon as I got off the train, I tried to remember to take my phone and my wallet with me, to ensure I had everything I needed to get to my destination safely.
I knew that this was going to happen.
The next day, I asked a few people what had happened and they told me it had happened because of the way I was riding.
I realised that I was getting on that train at a really bad time, and that I should be using my experience to make sure everyone else on that same train was as safe as I was.
I made my first post-stop stop on the Gold, but the next morning I didn the same.
I started to think, What the hell happened?
This was not something that I could control.
The journey I was taking was going faster than I was, but at the same time, I wasn- was just not prepared to stop.
A train train travelling at an 85km/h speed.
Source: Supplied: I had never been on an 85-km/hr train before.
I don ‘t know why, but for the first time, it became apparent that I needed a bit of help.
I found a seat, which I was happy to do, because it felt like an extension of my comfort zone.
I asked people on the trains where they were going and what they were doing.
As I got to know them better, I realised they were all trying to get off the trains that had just passed them, and were trying to make their way home.
One of the people I asked where he was going was a very senior member of staff, and was clearly on a journey to the office.
I couldn’t help but think, That was his job.
He’s not doing anything bad, right?
After several minutes of chatting, he asked if I was OK and asked to talk to his supervisor.
I told him I was fine and that it was OK that he was trying to help me.
He replied, “You know, you’ve got a lot of people on that line, so we’ll be doing everything we can.”
A post-shift meeting at the Gold coast station.
Source of Image: Getty Images I realised I needed some advice on how to handle this.
I needed someone who understood the importance of not giving up, to get me off that train and back home safely.
I called a couple times to get any information on what was happening to me, but they were unable to help.
When I finally called the NSW Transport Safety Bureau (TSB), the TSB had no answer at all.
When it was time for me to go home, I called them again, but when I got through to a supervisor, they didn’t want me on the