Have you ever noticed how on weekends, the only people who use public transport are … well …um … just different from weekday commuters?
On Sunday, Son #2 and I had to venture into the city for something, and as we had time to spare, decided against the train journey which is a mere boring three stops (inner city living at its best), and instead took the picturesque meandering tram-ride into the city.
Let me tell you about our fellow passengers.
Couple No. 1: American tourists.
Interestingly, they were not attired in the usual matching sporting outfits that always make me giggle. (Come to Melbourne, Australia, and run! Around our beautiful city streets! Or just look like you’re about to break into a sweat! Whatever,you fitness freaks, you.)
No, instead they were dressed as though they were about to climb to Annapurna Base Camp. Huge enormous clunky hiking boots, thick socks, shorts (cos it is summer here, after all), gortex jackets and state of the art backpacks. Maps in hand. Loud voices.
They looked around at their fellow travellers and instantly and correctly appraised me as the only person likely to be able to assist them, and asked me at which stop they needed to alight in order to visit the museum. (The one that is indoors. With smooth, rock-free surfaces to stroll about in. And a gifte shoppe to browse in after your ascent … er, stroll. No crampons needed, really, we are civilised here.) (I was sooo tempted, sooo very very tempted to tell them about the cram … oh no never mind, it’s rude and I didn’t). (Cos we are polite here, as well as civilised).
Couple No. 2: Japanese tourists.
The woman in high heels and tiny handbag, the man wearing Smart Casual, a look that can be troublesome to pull off successfully. I am pleased to report he did (pull it off with some aplomb). They were quiet, incredibly polite, and they giggled and pointed at my blonde child and made Isn’t that blonde Australian sproglet so cute and adorable and blonde? noises. And they took an awful lot of photographs. Of each other.
They looked around at their fellow passengers and decided that I was the one most qualified to take a photograph of them. (They must know that I have a blog! And that I specialise in dorky photographs!) And with much bowing and hand gesturing, they oh so politely requested that I do so. And with more bowing, they thanked me. Oh so politely. With a few giggles. And a few Stupid Australian woman, talk about technically dyslexic, can’t even work out the buttons on our state of the art whizz-bang digital camera type of noises.
Couple No. 3: Australian loonies.
Because the only people on public transport on the weekends are tourists and loonies. Oh yeah, and me.
She had wild hair and a torn skirt. Muttered a lot. He had a large collection of sandpaper with him. He proceeded to work his way through his not unimpressive collection, rasping and rubbing each piece to … what? Rate them in terms of rasp satisfaction? I know not.
They looked around at their fellow passengers and agreed that I was the one most eminently suitable to sit next to and ...
Son # 2 and I looked around, and decided …
This is our stop!