The Tram Jam

It’s a Friday morning, and I’m heading into the office. A pleasant change from the working from home normal. I have my smart shoes and my collared shirt. I’m about to make this day, and the promise of lunch time teriyaki chicken, mine.

Now to get to the office from our apartment is a one stop tram shop. Walk to the tram pickup point, jump on number 75 and proceed to zone out for 45 minutes. Once you’re done zoning out, hop off the tram, cross the traffic lights and walk into the office like you own the place. Easy hey!

Except for this day… Today would turn into a no-tram adventure of frustration. I did what I normally do. Hop on the 75, put on my New Music Mix and start to zone out to the world around me. Around the fourth stop or so, and nowhere near having left Docklands, things start to go wrong. The tram driver politely informs us that the tram can no longer go forward and will be going backwards. Something about a tram derailment further up a head. Oh dear, that sounds serious!

Everyone then climbs off the tram and starts the long trek towards Flinders Street train station – about a 15-minute walk in good shoes. Getting to the nearest traffic lights and in full view of the very next tram stop, what should we see? That very same tram, with that very same driver, breezing through the intersection to stop at said tram stop. Confused and annoyed, everyone who climbed off then begins the half-jog-half-power-walk across the intersection and onto the tram platform. This tram waits for most people to make it onto the platform, before closing the doors and, living its best life, zooms up the street.

With a flurry of swear words as only the Aussies can, the group of now tram battle worn soldiers decide to collectively wait for the next one. It should be here in 6 minutes. That’s not too long and allows us to indulge in some good natured Australian past times. Such as cursing at the public transport.

Six (or seex if you’re Aussie) minutes pass and the next tram arrives as promised by the tram gods. Hallelujah! Alas, we are duped again. This tram lets us all board. Gets as far as closing the doors, with even the initial lurch of movement. And then the driver comes onto the loudspeaker. He informs us that there is an electrical problem up ahead, and he can go no further. This tram is also allegedly going backwards from now. Like what are the chances!

A collective sigh goes up, as we all disembark and resign ourselves to the walk to Flinders yet again. This time, we manage to make it almost half a block up the street before we see that second tram come past, picking up passengers, living its best life, and just YOLO-ing along. What the heck!

Now we’ve finally made it to Flinders Street! And just about to begin the “what train do I take” dance when I see some yelling up ahead. Since I’ve resigned myself to arriving late, I decide to check it out. It looks like there is a tram traffic jam, and that in turn is causing a real traffic jam. What could be causing this I wonder as I make my way towards the commotion. And would you believe it?

There, in the middle of the street, and on top of a diesel truck parked in the middle of the tram tracks, are protestors. What are they protesting you ask? Climate change… They drove a diesel truck into the middle of the road. Shutdown commuters on electric trams. And proceeded to tell us we’re all terrible people for causing climate change. The irony is that in doing so they caused a bunch of petrol burning cars to idle… No surprise that the organisation doing the protesting is the Extinction Rebellion. The PETA of climate change protestors.

After witnessing this act of utter stupidity, I find my way into Flinders, managing to catch a train to the office. My fears of being late unfounded as I walk in bang on 9. My only gripe being that my 45-minute commute and music listening was cut down to 15.

Ah, well now all I need to worry about is chicken teriyaki for lunch…
Say? When is lunch? I could go now if you’re not busy.