Sydney public transport has long been mostly punishing.
It’s a hard city to live in without a car if you have to venture anywhere beyond the CBD, from anywhere beyond the CBD.
Living on the Bankstown train line means getting used to seeing the three worst words in the English language: “Train Replacement Service”.
I don’t enjoy driving. I became car reliant in this city because how else do you get from Coogee to Kirribilli, Darlinghurst to Punchbowl, Marrickville to Gladesville without sacrificing half your day? Also, I have ADHD. I find it very hard to concentrate and before being medicated I was forever having little prangs.
For your safety and for mine I’d rather be on public transport.
Public transport also means more reading time, more time in the world having minuscule connections with others, absorbing the energy of people out in the world doing things (I’m a writer, which means a lot of my time is spent alone in my home office).
Imagine the excitement then, on hearing Sydney would have a new train line that could take you from Sydenham to Central in minutes and across the bridge in a few minutes more.
In the lead-up to the launch of the Sydney Metro, much was made of the effort put into the new stations like Gadigal, Barangaroo and Victoria Cross. They’d be beautifully designed hubs, with sympathetic public art and food spots.
Art? Food? Efficient public transport?!
Sign me up.
Photographs of the new stations were architecture porn. The videos made by trainspotters geeking out at the speed, the lighting and the cleanliness were as exciting as any trailer for a blockbuster movie. TikToks touted the new must-visit eating spots! I even had a text from my most inner-west–resistant friend, proclaiming it a triumph that will see her visit us more regularly.
I’m rehearsing a new play at the moment and word came in we would be starting at 10.30am, which would give me two whole hours to play around on the Sydney Metro.
Surely that should be enough time to go from Sydenham to Victoria Cross and walk 22 minutes to the theatre, shouldn’t it?
And then some, I discovered!
I got to Victoria Cross station so quickly I barely had time to read any of my book. The whole experience of getting from one station to the other was so clean, quiet, quick and beautifully lit.
When I got out at the Victoria Cross platform, I was overwhelmed by its space and tranquility. The bright, warm and beautiful tiling on the tall and wide roof. There were friendly, unobtrusive staff ready to patiently answer questions.
As I wandered toward the exit, I noticed the public toilets. Public toilets, open for us to use, at a train station? Surely they’ll be disgusting? I checked inside the women’s toilet: it was pristine.
Beyond the exit, Victoria Cross station caters to all food groups: there’s a Maccas, Marrickville Pork Roll, Sushi Hub, Bourke Street Bakery – as well as a few extra independent eateries that looked in need of checking out.
It was then I realised I had enough time to pop back across the bridge to check out Barangaroo and Gadigal stations, buy a coffee and some chocolate at the QVB and head back to Kirribilli on the (old school) train to Milsons Point.
Walking through Gadigal station felt like being inside a futuristic movie, where the future is beautiful, sparkling and peaceful. Callum Morton’s extraordinary tiled mural The Underneath reminds you of the many lives of this city we live in. The colours – yellow, purple, blue, crimson – lifted my mood.
I returned to Town Hall station to get back across the bridge on the normie train – and it felt like the moment after a night on the dance floor when the venue turns the “ugly” lights back on.
Compared with the Metro it was cramped, grubby and ill-lit. The announcements were loud and interrupted by KFC ads. It felt less safe, with its unguarded platforms. Walking down the stairs at Milsons Point, my knee started to hurt.
I’d only been in the world of the Sydney Metro but an hour or so, but I want to live there now.
I rode it home later in the afternoon, from Central to Sydenham. Six minutes. Six minutes!
Melanie Tait is a playwright and journalist living in Sydney
