A joy of commuting!? I hear some of you wonder. Very often you hear only complaining in regards of morning rush hour, evening peak hour and all the incredibly dumb people that block your way. Commuting is not often considered a fun event.
Belgium is probably one of the heaviest commuter countries, and it shows. There is no road that didn’t jam. Since I started working I have been adding to that mass of morning grumpy people, who have been forced out of their beds and shoveled into all sorts of moving boxes.
Although, sometimes I fail to see the full horror of the situation. First of all, I love the sunrises I have been spotting while the train passes by countryside. There has been some rather chilly mornings, with dense mist laying around. The duvet of fog has been lit golden by the morning sun, and the sceneries are just breathtaking. One day there was a lady, walking on a field, followed by a massive herd of sheep, probably begging for food. Too bad I don’t go to work with the camera…
Those are the small pretty things I would like to be able to notice more. Or those moments might of course be made pretty by my slowly waking brain, that has not yet accepted the reality that I am already headed for work.
And even though commuting a long distance takes a looooot of time, it is not necessarily completely wasted time. As many of us, I too, read, knit and think about cures for cancer and solutions for world hunger. Also, it is somehow possible to view it as quality time with your partner, if he happens to be on the same moving box. At least he can’t run away from the difficult topics, like what to have for dinner this evening, or does he like my mother. Be careful not to spook your spouse so bad they run off of the road!
Of course there is the line when the joy of commuting turns into sorrow. Usually at the spot, when the train or tram or other box of choosing is stuffed with way too many people and your cheek is comfortably pressed against someones armpit or the window someone had just been licking. Or when the standstill on the highway grows longer than 45 minutes and 22 seconds.
The approaching winter or course adds to this misery. Soon my beautiful moments with the rising sun are over, because I am on the road before the beloved fireball comes around. That is genuinely depressing. Also the Brussels metro which is also something I sometimes enjoy from. I really hate it. Most of the time it is just packed full. And sometimes it is packed full with strange people, who, for instance, lick the poles.
But all in all, there are also more horrible things to do, than get stuck in the jams, that’s what I think at least. How about you? How do you feel of commuting, is it terror or time to read your newspaper in peace and quiet?