Skip to main content

Commute


My commute to and from Parramatta is navigated by landmarks. On the way in, Strathfield station marks time for breakfast. Dooleys (some sort of club venue) at Lidcombe Station is an indicator that I need to start mentally preparing to get off the train and ready for work.


 

Auburn swimming pool. Gallipoli Mosque at Auburn. “Furn ture”, something my mind catches every time I pass it. The missing ‘I’ really messes with my perfectionism, but the equal number of letters on each side satisfies my need for symmetry. Harris Park means I need to pack away the book I’m reading. Landmarks are the Saree shop and a random group of weatherboard buildings that have been fenced off for the 4 years I’ve been semi-regularly commuting this route. The high-rise buildings either side of the station create a tunnel effect that signals I’ve arrived.



I love catching public transport. Its the option of being able to gaze as the world wizzes by, to read a book, to fashion watch strangers. Its the journeys through suburbia. Its the joy of the top front seat on London’s double decker buses, or the driver seat on the DLR. 


As many archaeologists live in Sydney’s inner west, the trendy part of town (read: reasonably affordable, lots of young people and share-houses), a train journey to Parramatta can become a social occasion as other archaeologists jump on the train (during one stint, there were about 10 of us that all seemed to get the same carriage on the same train). It can also turn into a chance to catch up with colleagues who you may not have seen for weeks due to conflicting fieldwork schedules.  


The most laborious journey getting to site via public transport was in London. It took 1.5hrs and involved a bus, the DLR, two separate tubes, and then another bus. This journey, too, often became a social occasion: on the first tube ride I’d join one person already in the carriage, at the next station a few others would join us, and then yet more would appear at the bus stop, the last leg. Some days there would be 5 or 6 of us going against the flow of people and traffic out into suburban Essex. 


Commuting in archaeology - whether by car, train, bus, plane, helicopter - is a bonding experience. I’m interested in hearing others experiences of commutes, particularly to the same place over an extended period of time. Leave a comment below. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Parramatta's archaeology

After the diggers leave, the machines roll in, and the past is dug up and dumped in landfill, what happens to the archaeology? The hours of toil, painstakingly unpicking the past. Here in NSW, interpretation of a site's history, often incorporating the results of any archaeological investigations, is becoming a standard condition of any new development.  Parramatta offers a great wealth of interpretation examples - from the classic plaques and floor inlays (a personal favourite), to the preservation of a whole convict hut. To guide the interested visitor I've prepared a nifty zine that includes a map to guide you through Parramatta - link available here:  Parramatta's archaeology (a zine)  This tour followed a guide prepared by Heritage NSW that includes a brief discussion of each site's history.  Here a couple of examples of Parramatta's past that can be glimpsed in car parks, walkways, and foyers.  Remains of what was Rowland Hassall's house - now a carpark d...
Post a Comment
Read more

Navel Gazing

Parramatta , lands of the Burramattagal people , site of Australia’s second colonial settlement, temporary home to a transient and dusty bunch of archaeologists. While archaeologists have been sifting through the dust of Parramatta for decades, the State Government’s plan to re-elevate Parramatta as part of the Sydney Metropolis , has meant that Parramatta’s past is being uncovered at speed and by many.  Archaeology is interpretation. Digging is interpretation. How we feel and what we are going through is brought to site every day. But site diaries tend to only record the weather, the daily activities, whose on site and what was found. Site diaries don’t record the feelings of those digging.  Archaeology is (mostly) a career chosen out of passion (none of us are paid enough for the amount of mud we spent our days in?), a passion (on most days) we bring to site. But where does all this feeling go? Does it get captured in the reams of paperwork produced? What about the experienc...
Post a Comment
Read more