train rain

I read this in an old journal the other day and it kind of amused me so I'm going to share it.

"Slept for about an hour last night. Woke up at 3, walked from the team house to Waratah train station in the rain..with no umbrella. I put my bags in a trolly I found. I coasted down the hills where I could. A man pulled over and was yelling something to me about if I wanted a lift. I ignored him and made it to the station. The rain got heavier. The man drove past the station about 4 times hooting the horn at me.

I wrote a C.S Lewis quote on the seat. On the first train I caught a man had his Bike stolen. At the station where I got off and waited a drunk man with a bike was talking to another man and giving him swigs of something out of a sports bottle. A kind of fat guy came with no shirt on, his white pants were stained with a big brown mark on the bottom.. Like he'd fallen on his ass in the mud. He cursed and yelled to no one in particular about some 'junkie hooker' that had 'screwed him over'.

I sat in a different carriage to him when the train finally came at 4 something AM. This second train trip was uneventful. I took off my shoes and tried to dry my feet, soaked from my walk in the rain. I got out my sleeping bag and slept most of the way listening to Sufjan Stevens."

It just kind of amused me in it's report-like-ness. It was a very strange, surreal kind of experience. The bizarre and grotesque characters that haunt the streets in the early hours of the morning. The rain and the oily sheen of the wet road.. And how weirdly similar the feeling of riding a bike on a clear day was to the freedom of coasting down the long hilly streets, in the rain, in the middle of the night, on the back of this old trolly packed with my luggage.

Hmm anyway..