I would like to share with you my fellow travellers, a story of me wanting to retain my feisty independent way of being, when a bit of patience would have served me far better.
Some may call me stubborn, or pig headed with my determination to soldier on ahead with trying to achieve my goals, I call it being focused on what needs to be done to attain it.
Sometimes however the trials and tribulations involved in ones’ endeavour to do so, can be quite over whelming.
Filled with enthusiasm and zest for wanting to keep the ball rolling toward my goal, I decided to take on this task by myself.
My friend who usually helps me with things, was not available for another two days and Mum had medical appointments, along with the day planned to execute this job was going to be a bright sunny day. The weather forecast was important as being wintertime the days had been filled with rain. My friend telling me to wait until she was available to help, my enthusiastic response was “Don’t worry, it will be an adventure.”
A newfound confidence
I had just launched my second book “Ya gotta laugh” and was eager to get it on the local bookstores shelf. My destination was a shop in Fremantle, hours’ drive from where I live. I knew how to find it once I was in Fremantle, it was the commute there that was my challenge. I am not particularly familiar with catching trains or buses but had recently found a newfound confidence since participating in a cooking class in Perth with Vision Australia. I had no problem with catching the bus into the Elizabeth Quay station in the city and then the train along the Mandurah line. That however was the extent of my public transport experience.
I recalled a cooking participant telling me to get to Fremantle, all I had to do was catch the Fremantle line from the city and the train stops right there. ‘Simple,’ I thought. ‘I can do that ‘was what I reassuringly told myself. ‘How wrong could I go with that? Yep, I’ve got this ‘was my confident self-talk.
Confident like a strutting rooster
Rising early as I needed two hours travel time to get to Fremantle, along with a twenty-minute walk from my place to the bus that only runs every hour into the city, I didn’t want to miss the bus. With my book in hand, and ready to walk out of the door, I had a little brainwave. I contacted a friend that lived in Fremantle and asked if she was available to have a coffee catch up while I was down there? Her excited response was that she would meet me at the train station for a coffee, after I had dropped the book off at the shop. Yep, I was showing her how independent and confident I was in engaging on such big tasks. I felt like I was strutting like a rooster, chest puffed out, tail feathers held high and proud, owning my stuff.
Nearly missing the bus and having to frantically wave it down to stop again, At least I had Rhian by myside who makes for a good visual attraction. Rhian and I safely on the bus, we were on our way to starting our adventure. Rhian knew exactly where to take me to get me to the train station. Confidently strutting our stuff together through the bus port and down to the train station, we boarded the train in no time at all. Settling down for a forty-minute ride, all was well.
When the rooster feathers fall out
Hearing the names of the stops along the way, my brain began thinking how do I actually get to Fremantle from one of these stations ? Alarm bells began ringing as the names being announced were well past my destination point. When I heard Rockingham announced, the bells were really clanging in my head. I was a Half an hour’s drive further south from Fremantle! As I alighted from the train, I asked a passenger if they knew how to get to Fremantle from here. They had no idea bit would help me find someone to assist me. Now in the hands of a trusty transit guard, he told me that I had to catch the train all the way back into the city station, one stop past Elizabeth Quay.
Then go to platform seven and catch the Fremantle line. To get back to where I had to catch my bus on my return trip, I would have to go back to the city station, go to platform two to get back to Elizabeth quay. It was at this point that all of my fluffed-up rooster feathers not only drooped down but completely fell out. It was then that I remembered the cooking participant telling me that I had to catch the Fremantle line from the city. A small oversight that had slipped my mind but of such importance to my planned trip! Deflated, daunted with such a huge and unfamiliar challenge required, I was almost at tears. Thank God I had sunglasses on so no-one could see my welled-up eyes.
A ride of defeat
Back on the return train, I called my friend and told her that I would have to cancel as I was currently in Rockingham! Telling her of my adventure and dilemma of not being able to not only navigate the large Perth train station bit the time it would take to do so just wasn’t worth the effort. She offered to meet me at Murdoch station, which I was semi familiar with and pick me up there. At least that way we could still have our catch up.
Now in the car with her, she offered to drive me down to Fremantle. I told her that I was not going to worry about it as the day had already been long and stressful enough. We enjoyed a lovely lunch together, along with her buying the book off me.
Rhian and I back on the train to go home, I was beginning to settle down after the mornings events.
Feeling a little relieved that I would at least be able to catch an earlier bus home and miss the school run, Rhian and I waited at the bus stop.
Ten or so minutes later, a transit guard came along and asked me which bus I was waiting for? Telling him the 282, he informed me that I had a forty-minute wait. Now getting confused once more, I replied that I thought the 282 ran twenty past the hour.
He confirmed that it wasn’t coming until ten past. With that information, I really felt deflated.
Not only did I completely muck up my train ride endeavour but now my intended early ride home was also bumbled. This hole public transport thing is simply too hard for me! Was my defeated mind talk.
A long trek home
After Rhian and I sat patiently sitting by ourselves, like a shag on a rock, with not a soul around us, eventually another passenger ventured down to our bus stop. Thank God I thought, at least I know somebody else is wanting to catch the same bus. Finally, a bus pulls up and the passenger asks the driver if they are stopping at the Kalamunda depot? With hearing his confirming answer, I confidently boarded my ride home.
Weary from my mentally challenging days events. I began to notice that glimpses of scenery weren’t familiar. My brain too tired to comprehend what was going on. Then I realised I was on the 283 which takes a different route.
Now I didn’t know where the bus was going to stop from where I needed to get off. Asking the driver some questions, I eventually got off the bus but with quite a long trek home.
Feeling absolutely shattered both physically and mentally, of which I am sure Rhian felt the same way, we were both glad to be back home. When my husband came home and asked how my day went, my simple answer was “I don’t like catching public transport anymore.”
Moral of my story
This story of my planned exciting adventure of independence, is not to tell you that catching public transport with a vision deficit is a difficult and arduous task to do. There are plenty of blind people catching transport regularly and with ease.
My lesson here is that if I had used some patience and waited for a sighted person to go with me and familiarise my planned route with Rhian, then things would have been different.
A little forward planning goes a long way when you can’t see where you are going! One day I will endeavour to try this again but with somebody by myside to orientate me, along with Rhian being familiarised with a new route to remember.
My one consolation was that I had my bestie and closest confidant giving me comfort and a sense of security, by myside the entire day through. Thank you Rhian.
Thankyou for joining me and reading my Peacock Tale.
I look forward to being with you again very soon sharing stories and insights about my life.
Next blog I will be writing about is when I was asked a very profound and soul enquiring question. Do I feel the same person that I was before I lost my sight?
No regrets
Colleen Ashby
@seeing-eye dogs Australia
@Vision Australia
