Sleepless overnight journey on the Shosholoza Meyl

“They are treating us as if we did not pay a cent.”

These were the words of a commuter as he disembarked from the Shosholoza Meyl train at Durban station just after midday on Saturday.

We had endured a 17-hour ride‚ sitting upright in a third-class carriage without air conditioning‚ unable to sleep for fear of our belongings being stolen‚ subjected to unexplained delays and stops en route. Not to mention unruly passengers whose conduct was fuelled by alcohol they had brought on board with them.

The man‚ in a striped shirt and blue jeans‚ was only carrying a small bag. He looked exhausted. With his feet planted on the platform‚ he made a lewd gesture in the air‚ allowing everyone to see his displeasure.

“I was trying it for the first time. I have never used this train. I thought it was going to be a good trip but it was worse. It is shit. It is not a train. It was my first time and my worst trip ever from Joburg. I will never take this train again‚” he said.

A small group of commuters agreed quietly‚ but did not have the courage to speak up. But one elderly woman did: “It is unfair. Where are the managers? I want to speak to them. They are disrespecting us‚” said a visibly angry Irene Bhengu.

I shared her sentiments. It was my worst trip ever between Johannesburg and Durban‚ a journey that takes seven hours in a private vehicle if one has a rest break and keeps to the speed limit.

Bhengu was joined by a young man and we all walked to the ticket sales office. We were angry. We asked to see the manager. A lady behind the window asked why. We explained and she told us to get in touch with their call centre.

The young man‚ who identified himself as Sabelo‚ was fuming and in response we were advised to complain to a manager at the Shosholoza Meyl head office at Park Station‚ back in Johannesburg. It was a lost cause. We exchanged numbers and parted ways.

I had last taken this train about eight years ago. I wanted to see if anything had improved.

Getting a ticket was the first hurdle. The contact numbers advertised by Shosholoza Meyl went unanswered and booking online proved to be a frustrating experience‚ so I purchased a ticket at the station on Wednesday.

The train was scheduled to depart at 6.40pm on Friday. As I walked to the gate‚ a young man tried unsuccessfully to chat up a female ticket inspector. She declined to give him her number. Her colleague‚ sitting near the gate‚ laughed‚ describing the well-built young man as a “good catch”.

We were greeted by a security guard waiting to point us to the platform where our train to Durban would arrive. The same young man tried to chat up the security guard.

Mbuso Sibiya* had his own opinion about the budding Casanova. “Ukhuthele lo mfana. Kodwa ngisola ukuthi akayedwa. Akekho umuntu ongenza into enje‚” he said. (“He is an ambitious man when it comes to women. But I suspect he has taken something. His behaviour is unusual.”)

The well-dressed young man would become a nuisance throughout our journey.

I boarded the train with Sibiya‚ a regular commuter. He led me to an unlit coach. “Don’t worry‚” he said‚ “the lights will go on soon.” We settled down and the lights went on.

The train only departed at 7.33pm. Police and security guards moved in and out of the coaches‚ which was a great relief as safety was my biggest concern. A short while later we stopped in Germiston. I thought it was just a routine stop but we were later told work needed to be done on the railway line and we would be redirected on a different route.

Then the on-board drama began. The charming young man had found a drinking buddy and they started misbehaving. He challenged everyone on board to fight him. He was swearing in front of children‚ causing havoc. He then mistakenly fell on a child who was sleeping on the floor. The child’s mother lost it‚ told him to get off and went to call security.

Two security guards arrived. The intoxicated man became aggressive. He was forcibly removed to another part of the train‚ only to return later‚ behaving like a different man. We wondered what they had done to him in such a short space of time. But then they came back and took him away for good.

Other people were also openly consuming alcohol‚ which they had brought on board with them. The ejected drunkard’s drinking buddy apologised and then went around with a slab of chocolate‚ giving everyone he thought had been offended a piece.

The restored silence in the carriage was a perfect opportunity to chat to Sibiya about his experiences on the train.

“Using the train is a nice experience. Problems start when people get drunk and start walking up and down making noise. But the police are there to come and deal with troublesome people‚” he said.

“The other bad thing about the train is that it sometimes stops without any notice. It can stop for an hour and nobody comes to tell us what is happening. Last year the train broke down not far from Newcastle. We left that place at 9am with buses after people threatened to cause havoc because they were angry. The train broke down about 1am and we waited for hours for buses‚” he said.

“That is the problem with the train. I still want to know why we left Park Station‚ knowing that there is some work on the railway line a few minutes away from us. It does not make sense.

“You have to really calm yourself down to enjoy this journey. If you focus on the stops and delays‚ the journey will be a terrible experience. But if you remain calm and know that you will reach your destination‚ it will not be that bad.”

Sibiya works at a casino in Johannesburg. His wife and children stay in Mnambithi‚ northern KwaZulu-Natal. I took him for dinner at the restaurant inside the train. I must admit their pap and stew was good. Sibiya was surprised to get into that section of the train. He had always thought the restaurant was for “rich people”.

We later noticed that in our coach‚ there was water flowing from the toilets on the floor. It was clean water but it was making a mess. The train continued‚ with so many stops‚ I lost count. Sibiya finally got off at Mnambithi in the early hours of the morning. Then the sun came up and it became unbearably hot inside as the lack of air conditioning took hold.

At that time the train was travelling at a snail’s pace. It continued to have short stops in the middle of nowhere.

We arrived in Pietermaritzburg at 8.37am. We departed from the KwaZulu-Natal capital at 9am and it took a further three hours to reach Durban‚ instead of one hour by car.

And that is why the disgruntled passenger who got off in Durban described his train trip in such strong language.

The train is the cheapest way to travel from Johannesburg to Durban‚ with a ticket costing R160‚ compared to a minibus taxi fare of R280 and inter-city bus rides that can cost up to R350. But you’d need to be an inordinately patient traveller to do the ride a second time.