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MAMALADE
Newsletter
June
Thursday 22nd June 2006
Trouble with trains
I really didn't need any more books! I still have plenty waiting to be read, but when my friend Meg and I heard that Lifeline was having another Bookfest at the Convention Centre this month, we just had to go and have a look. Who knows what treasures we might be missing out on?
I put some new screws in my old trolley (I was a few screws loose after our last haul of books) and we caught the train into the city. We had to change trains at central station.
“That's it!” I said, studying the noticeboard. “Beenleigh. Platform 2. That's the one that goes through South Brisbane.”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me,” I said. “I know what I'm doing!”
The train came in with “Beenleigh”marked clearly on the front. We boarded it, together with an excited group of Grade 3 children and their teachers who were going to an event at the museum at South Bank.
After travelling for a while, there was still no sign of South Brisbane and the train seemed to picking up speed. A man in a nearby seat asked us if we were on the Beenleigh train.”Oh yes, this is the Beenleigh train,” I assured him. “All these kids are going to South Bank.” I knew it was possible for me to board the wrong train, but a whole class of schoolchildren and teachers? Never!
But it soon became evident that although nearly everyone in our carriage had believed they were travelling on the Beenleigh line, the train was clearly headed somewhere else!
“Maybe we've been hijacked!” I joked. Our trip was getting interesting, but Meg wasn't impressed.
“Don't worry,” I said. “We're having a day out. It doesn't matter where we have it!”
We didn't have to be anywhere at a certain time, but others did. Anxious looking passengers began to pull out mobile phones to ring whoever was expecting them at their intended destination.
The man who had spoken to us got up and pressed the button to speak to the engine driver. He was informed that it was an express train to the Gold Coast and that an announcement had been made at the station to that effect. None of us had heard any announcement, although we had sat on the train for about 15 minutes before leaving.
The school children didn't seem worried. They probably weren't aware of what was happening, but the teachers looked a bit concerned.
We didn't have to go all the way to the Gold Coast. The train eventually stopped at Moorooka station and at least half of its passengers were transferred to another train that took us back to South Brisbane. We arrived an hour later than we had anticipated.
“Thank goodness we had been to the toilet at Central Station!” said Meg.
The rest of the day was spent in a bliss of books, with the smell of aging paper in our nostrils. But we were both exhausted by 3 p.m.
“I don't know how we kept going till 5 last time,” said Meg. “Remember, they were closing when we left.”
“That was in January,” I pointed out. “We're older now.”
We trudged back to South Brisbane Station, just in time to catch the next train into the city. “We'd be better getting off at Roma Street,” said Meg. “The next train went from the same platform last time.”
“That was a different time of day,” I reminded her. We got off at Roma Street Station. I could see that the connecting train would leave from the other platform.
“Quick get back on the train!” We leapt back into the train we had just left. Just in time! “I'm not dragging the trolley all the way down those steps & up onto the other platform,” I puffed.
We got out at Central on Platform.4. According to the notice board, the very next train was ours, leaving from Platform 4. “Quick, over this side, “ I shouted. We were just in time to see the train leave without us!
An attractive female railway attendant came to offer assistance. She told us the next train would leave from Platform 6. “You can take the lift,” she said, looking at my trolley.
“With our luck, the lift will get stuck,” I muttered.
“Don't take the lift if you don't feel right about it.” she soothed. “I'll carry your trolley down the stairs.” Before I could protest, she took my trolley and carried it down the stairs and up onto the next platform.
I could have managed, but I was very grateful for her help. On Platform 6, another attendant came and checked on us a couple of times to see if we were alright, and when the train finally arrived she came over and offered to lift the trolley onto the train.
“I didn't realise I looked so old and feeble,” I said to Meg.
The railway might have goofed up on the trains that morning, but their helpful attendants made up for it!
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