Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

Ha! thanks Tony it was fabulous.
I have survived the Frankston line on friday nights in the 1980's when the people with a slab jam the doors open so they can pis out them. On the Werribee line the transit stasi work in packs of four. I'd like to see just one who was brave enough to work alone. High Trains Drifter.

We (me & brother) used to catch the Frankston line to and from my grandparents place in the 1970s. When my grandmother dropped us off at the station after the visit she would say goodbye like we were going off to war.

I grew up in Dandenong -- my parents still live there.

When I was doing the rounds to get my first job as a "professional" after graduating, I'd be asked about overcoming hardship or dealing with challenges or other similar malarkey. For want of having anything else to say, I'd mention growing up in struggle-town Dandenong among the drug dealers and assorted misfits and still managing to get through.

It was very difficult keeping a straight face.

Frankston really is the end of the line. Does a worse place exist?

"Last train to Boganville?"....

The comments to this entry are closed.