Sick, grumpy Aucklander complains about public transport

Today I have a sore throat and a runny nose. I feel peeved and grumpy and all sorts of things hurt. I blame public transport. I’m sick, which means I’m in a vindictive mood, but despite that I still think I owe some of my present discomfort to Auckland’s public transport system. Here’s why: stress.

I live in a part of the city called Grafton. It’s near the central city and one of the reasons we live here is that it means the Boyfriend can walk to work, which is good because he’s a poor student. But I usually drive. I drive onto the motorway, I roll over the harbour bridge, north, until I get to a place called Albany where I shimmy around a couple of blocks, drive up a bit of a winding street and voila! I’m at work. It takes only 15-20 minutes getting there in the morning and about 30-40 minutes getting home. The homewards trip always takes longer, but I’m lucky because I usually go against the main flow of traffic. It’s easy getting to work in my car. And it’s warm – all the way there.

Unfortunately my car burns a lot of petrol. And this is not good for the world, which is why on Monday I turned to the bus. Busses also burn a lot of petrol. But you can squeeze a lot of people into one, so theoretically they are all making fewer carbon emissions each by sharing the burden.

I have to take three busses to get to work. The first one is easy. I walk down the road, maybe 150 metres and I stand under a little platform, which I know is where busses come. One rolls along, I pay $1.80 (when I used to catch the bus all the time it was much cheaper than this) and the bus takes me to Britomart, which sounds like a place where you buy cheap English people but it’s actually a transport depot.

Once I get to Britomart the fun starts. I know that to ride the bus for less than $1.80 a pop you need a thing called a Hop Card, so I wait in a queue of people and buy one. I know from the last time that I caught the express bus to the Shore,  that it didn’t take a Hop card, but I did my research last night and apparently they do now. Just to make double sure I ask ‘Does the Northern Star go to the Shore?’

‘Yes,’ says the smiling man.

So I walk to the bus stop. But then I realise that I don’t actually want a bus called the Northern Star, I want a bus called the Northern Express. So I thought stars sounded speedy, shoot me. And the Northern Express does NOT accept Hop cards, so I have to run to an ATM and get out $20.

Apparently it costs $4.50 to get to Albany. OK. A five day weeks’ pass will make it less expensive per trip, but I just want to catch the bus one day a week, not a whole week, so I settle on a Northen Express day pass. This costs $9, but at least I won’t have to buy another ticket on the way home.

THIS is the bit that gets to me: I don’t mind paying more for organic food, I don’t mind paying more for some special all natural pretentious face cream that will turn my skin into a better cluster of wholesome minerals, and I even expect to pay through the nose for organic cotton underthings, but paying more money to catch the bus?

I've still got three busses to pay for and I don’t get through $10.80 in petrol a day going to and from Albany, even with fuel prices what they are. Maybe over the course of a year it will cost more with registrations and warrants and any maintenance and insurance, but this is still an expensive bus. And it doesn’t even take me all the way to work.

It’s a super quick drive to the Constellation Station, I’ll give them that – maybe only 15 minutes from town – (I didn’t time it, I was learning irregular Italian verbs, this is another advantage of public transport, you can read) but when I got there I either had to wait another ten minutes for another overpriced bus or walk. I was so fed up with the whole idea of the system by this point that I just walked. Someone from work picked me up.

It was an hour and a half getting home (that’s partly because once I got to Britomart I hopped on the wrong bus which took me home but in a really roundabout way) and by the time I did I was beginning to understand why busses in Auckland are unpopular and why when you drive along the motorway you see car after car after car with just one lonely occupant.

I walked home from the bus stop, put my key in the door and staggered inside, yelling things like, ‘I’ve been defeated by busses!  Auckland public transport is worse than trekking through the Sahara on a camel! It would be faster to catch a racing snail than take a bus in Auckland’ and ‘Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!’
I blame today’s cold on all the stress. And standing in the wind at the Albany bus station.

So, once a week to work on the bus? I’m going to keep trying it, but I don’t promise to enjoy it.