The Johnsonville line is really extraordinary. Its defining feature is the way the history of the line shows through clearly in patches, so that the present appears quite marginal.
You start off innocently enough in a venerable train carrige (these guys must be at least 40 years old by now). They are starting to give the impression of being one of those public transport items you'd expect to find in India - a really weird mixture of old metal and new uniforms.
Then you head off through the desert-like railway yards - all brown and no people. Within about 5 minutes you are pulling away from the sea and heading into a series of tunnels along Ngaio george. I've always been facinated by this part of the Johnsonville line. I grew up in Wadestown for part of my life, and was never aware that the Johnsonville line was wending its way through the hillside below me. Literally a stone's throw away (so long as you are in the houses rather than the train).
Fortunately today there was noone throwing stones. The tunnels look positively Victorian (which is probably because they are). They're narrow, brick-lined and short. An early and brave attempt to tackle Wellington's geography. When you're not in a tunnel, you're either looking out over a native-bush covered george or (of you're on the wrong side) a dry, weedly cliff face. A few years ago there was a powerful dought in Wellington, and even the weeds on this face of the hill died. Given Wellington's robust weed population, I was shocked.
Then suddenly you're in a suburban shopping mall. And then a number of backwater stations which appear to have nothing connectected to them. Which became even weirder when 3-40 primary school kids got on. And then off again at another non-descript station 5 minutes later.
And then you're in Johnsonville. Right next to the motorway. And all for about $1.80.
I think I'm in love...