The weather was freezing cold and had been raining lightly all morning as I caught the train into Sydney with two friends. There’s something particularly uplifting to be amongst commuters when you are having a holiday. Faces buried in books or newspapers, eyes closed and tuned out with an Ipod, or glazed eyes staring unseeing out the window. Yet all I want to do is laugh and smile and share my excitement with my friends.
It didn’t bother me that the train crawled along the north shore line from Hornsby to North Sydney, stopping at every beautifully leafy station to gather more passengers. It didn’t bother me when the train slowed to cross the Sydney Harbour Bridge and I could look down on the sparkling water far below. It didn’t bother me when the train ground to a halt in the tunnel and the driver explaining we might be ten minutes or more because there was another train on the line ahead. None of those things bothered me because I had all the time in the world.
I got off the train at Wynward, the first stop after crossing the harbour, and then made my way across the city to visit the museum. My plan for the day was simple – wander through the museum and the art gallery and just breathe it all in. There is nothing I enjoy more.