I was a metro naysayer. A year on, I’d like to apologise

A little over a year ago, I texted a group chat of friends a link to a report from the Herald that Sydney’s Sydenham to Chatswood metro line would open the following Monday alongside the caption, “I assume all of you sheeple will be onboard.”

I was the ultimate metrophobe. Hurtling under Sydney Harbour in a driverless train sounded like an action movie stunt, not part of a respectable daily commute. What about those reports of delayed safety regulator approvals and an “absolute failure” of emergency plans on the Metro Northwest line the month prior? And seriously: what self-respecting Sydneysider would swap a train ride across the Harbour Bridge – with its glittering harbour vistas, sweeping cityscapes and bird’s-eye view of the city’s pet white elephant, North Sydney pool – for a dimly lit, forgettable journey through a tunnel like any other?

If we were going to abandon our azure crown jewel this easily, we may as well start hoisting a white flag up the Harbour Bridge, large enough to be seen from Melbourne.

So I resolved I would not ride it. And while others piled on, it felt like I was the only one who could see an invisible Sword of Damocles dangling from the cavernous roofs of those pristine new stations, hacking away at what it meant to live in the Harbour City.

That spirited resistance lasted all of … five weeks. Working right opposite Victoria Cross metro station in Nine’s North Sydney office was always going to test my resolve. As was the time saving. My commute home to Central station is now just eight minutes.

It’s a year since Sydney Metro’s City and Southwest line opened, and it’s tempting to reduce the service to its ruthless efficiency. And while it’s certainly a major drawcard, the metro’s more significant contribution has been to draw our sprawling city closer together.

You can jaunt to any number of far-flung destinations within a lunch break or use a designated driver(less) train to complete a metro stop pub crawl. But it’s not just a matter of speeding around the stops. The metro trains themselves – operating on one twin track line connecting several major business districts, with no internal gangways or staircases to separate passengers – are host to plenty of impromptu get-togethers.

So far, I’ve accidentally caught the metro with three failed relationships, several barely-acquaintance level colleagues, innumerable people from high school and many friends (including, embarrassingly, those whom I derided as sheeple). And that’s just the people I know.

The metro is extremely popular. As the Herald has reported, Sydneysiders are getting on board in huge numbers. (Side note – who needs a Euro summer when squishing into a weekday metro service provides the same rush as catching the Tube or U-Bahn?)

It’s hard not to be in people’s business on the metro. Loud, personal phone conversations are no longer the problem of a single train carriage or bus service: interlocutors on the other end of a FaceTime call can now enjoy an audience in the low triple digits.

And it’s a constant battle during peak hour not to accidentally place your hand atop someone else’s, or gaze into the eyes of a stranger standing on the other side of the pole. God forbid they, or anyone else nearby, is watching TikTok: now, you’ll be perusing their “For You” feed too.

Maybe it’s the Gen Z in me talking, but this is a level of randomised social interaction that my COVID-addled, algorithmised brain is simply not used to.

Sure, it has its trade-offs. I used to pack reading material for the train. Now I just focus on holding on to something while my paperback gathers dust at home. I haven’t seen the glow of sun dancing on the harbour in months, and there’s a non-zero chance I’ll die in a crowd crush getting on the escalators to leave the platform at Central.

That’s because the metro, with its speed, its crowds and its promise of a person from your past boarding at the next station doesn’t lend itself to much else than simply enduring the presence of other people. In an age where we can so easily siphon ourselves off into pre-configured social settings, I think this is an unsung upside.

Happy birthday, Sydney Metro. Here’s to many more together. And sorry for ever doubting you.

Grace Lagan is a law student at the University of Sydney and a paralegal.