I went on a train today – from Olhao to Fuseta, having walked to Olhao first. Now, this was a weird experience.
I mentioned before how unnerving it was to use an ATM because of the virus and the thought of all the people who had previously touched the buttons.
Blimey, this was twice as bad!
I left my house in Olhao with plenty of time to spare. I knew that I would have to sit and wait, but that really wasn’t a problem. What else have I got to do?
As I approached the station, I saw that a man was standing in the doorway.
“Here we go!” I thought. “What’s this all about?”
He watched me as I approached.
I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a uniform, but even so – was he an official, maybe an undercover stationmaster? If there is such a thing…
I slowed down, approaching him warily.
I got to about 6 feet away and stopped.
“Desculpe…” Excuse me.
I motioned that I wanted to go in.
He looked me up and down as though I was a piece of dirt, and then turned and walked back inside the station, taking a seat near to the door. I noticed that he had a ticket in his hand.
So, just another customer, no different to me.
Mmmm… that was bloody weird!
I approached the ticket office. One side was closed, and one side was open, but no sign of anyone to sell me a ticket.
I felt around in my pocket for some change – the fare’s €1.45
I found the right change and stood and waited.
As I did so, my mind turned to the money in my hand.
How many people had touched this money? How many people had wiped their nose with the back of their hand and then thrust it into their pocket to pull out some change? How many germs were on this money? How grubby was my hand now?
I don’t know how grubby it was, but it certainly started to feel a little bit sweaty.
Right now, I could be holding the virus in the palm of my hand…
I puffed put my cheeks and tried not to think about it. In fact, I decided NOT to think about it. What was the point? There was nothing I could do about it now.
Just then, a man appeared in the ticket office.
“Fuseta,” I said, “Faz favor.”
I slid the money under the Perspex screen. He picked it up with a gloveless hand, spread it out on the counter, counted it, slid it off the counter into his other hand and placed it into the till.
Mmm… he certainly wasn’t thinking about how many hands those coins had been through, and what germs they potentially held.
Anyway…
He passed my ticket over and I wandered out onto the platform. I had 25 minutes to wait.
There were a couple of people at the other end of the platform, but nothing to worry about – no need to get my tape measure out just yet.
I sat there, and checked my phone for messages. I then had a go at Sudoku – I find it quite relaxing when I have nothing better to do.
Next to me I heard a bang. Nothing to worry about – it was only the guy from the ticket office leaving the station. He locked the door behind him and disappeared off down the platform and round the corner. I have no idea where he went.
Two minutes later, a man came back around that very same corner, walked along the platform and tried to enter the station. Obviously, the door was locked, but he still gave it a good rattle.
He then turned to me (I was about ten yards away) and said something in Portuguese. I guessed that he was asking about the station and whether he could buy a ticket.
I wracked my brain as to how to respond.
It came to me: “Fechado,” I said. Closed. That’s what it says on all the shop doors when they’re not open.
“Obrigado,” he said, and then continued to prattle on in Portuguese.
I hate it when that happens. It’s all my fault, I know. I should really spend some time learning Portuguese, but believe it or not, I have other plans first (eg make some money!).
Anyway, I know enough to apologise for my lack of Portuguese, and he asked me if I was English.
“Si, Ingles.”
“Uh, time? Train?”
All he wanted to know was what time the train was coming. I wasn’t sure exactly, so I motioned that I would check on my phone.
I brought up the Comboios de Portugal app on my phone, entered Olhao (starting point) and Fuseta-A (destination), and pressed the search button. As I did so, I felt someone sit down right next to me.
It was the bloke who’d asked about the time of the train! He’d sat down right next to me and was trying to look over my shoulder to read the train times!
Bloody hell! I’m no prude, but come on! Whatever happened to social distancing?!
I held my breath, leaned away from him slightly and held my phone out in front so that he could read the train times. He squinted at it a bit (I don’t think his eyes were great) and then seemed happy with what he’d seen.
“Obrigado,” he said once more, stood up, and strolled along the pavement.
Before the pandemic, I’d have had no problem with what had just happened. But now? In such a short time, things really have changed. Or maybe it’s simply my attitude to the things around me that have changed. Certainly, this guy had no worries about coming close to me. Is that the social, natural way to be? Am I losing my humanity?
I didn’t have time to ponder this for long. Within a couple of minutes I could see the train coming. I stood up and walked along the platform to where the train had stopped.
Four or five people got off where I was standing, all wearing masks, all keen to move as far away from me as possible.
I got on the train. The steps are quite steep, so I pulled myself up by the handrail without thinking. It was like I had scalded myself when I realised what I had done! Bloody hell! How many germs on that metal handrail?! Who bloody knows!
I wiped my hand on my trousers: “much good that will do,” I thought.
I then looked for a seat.
Normally, the train is full, and I’m happy to sit anywhere.
Today the train was empty and I still couldn’t find a seat to sit in. They all looked so unappetising, so dirty.
But the choice was to stand or sit. I knew from experience that standing would not be a good option. The train rattles along, and I’d have to grab something at some point to remain standing, or at least lean against the wall of the carriage. I didn’t fancy either of those options, so I simply sat on the seat nearest to me, making sure not to touch anything around me.
Bloody hell… what a sad world we now love in…
I’m fairly brazen about going outside, but the media-driven frenzy that’s been going on has got me nervous. So what of those people who are already inclined to believe the worst in any situation, who are worried about things beyond their control, or people who have OCD?
Blimey! It must be so bloody hard for them!
When this is all over, will anybody ever be able to just accept life as it used to be?
I’m really beginning to wonder.
On a positive note, I survived my trip on the train (well, I have so far anyway), and I don’t feel too traumatised.
Hopefully, we can shortly all go back to where we were a month or two ago. I really do hope that, although I’m beginning to doubt it.
If you want to read more about my experiences during the Coronavirus lockdown of 2020, click on the logo below – this will take you to viralchitchat.com
