Ride a Tram - Part 1

In Melbourne not all trams are the same. Number 16 to St Kilda Beach is often steeped with tourists, but mainly, its passengers are under 35 and interesting-looking. On the other hand, the 67 to Malvern East always smells of piss.

Travelling to the CBD at 8.00 am is an ordeal. One must squeeze into the full tram in which passengers are squashed together like sardines. The morning rush of commuters is a survival of the fittest in order to secure a seating space to make the 40-minute commute bearable.

If you're unfortunate enough to have to stand, you'll find yourself dangling from one arm as you hold on to the hand rail for dear life, clutching all your belonging, including briefcase, newspaper, jacket (which you will have taken off due to the high level of humidity in the tram's microclimate and generated by all these sandwiched bodies). Possibly, you might as well be carrying an umbrella, given the umpredictability of Melbourne weather.

You'll be struggling with all of the above, all the while, trying desperately to maintain your balance as the tram rattles across intersections and hiccups through the morning rush hour, finally coming to sudden violent stops at red traffic lights. By now you'll be jealously voodooing someone securely seated - enjoying the sound of the music streaming from their personal stereo and peacefully reading a book.

Meanwhile, the effort of balancing and holding on to all your stuff, added to the aching feet from your stiletto heels, will cause your glasses to fog up.

But the ride home, at the end of a long working day is even more arduous.

Hot, crowded trams roll by slowly merging into the afternoon rush hour. Inside we are squashed sardine-like and sweaty and exhausted. The scent of bacteria and armpits, mingles with that of unwashed underwear, urine and spilled beer.

I prefer the new airconditioned trams, my favorite, number 16 to St. Kilda Beach.