After grabbing a coffee from the kiosk, I wait on platform two for the 07:53am North Shore line train. When I board the train, I try to find a seat on the top deck by the window, so as to enjoy the most panoramic views on my way to work.

The train glides along, stopping frequently at each of the suburbs on Sydney’s North Shore. Each time that the doors open, more commuters get on and the train becomes more crowded.

As we approach the lower North Shore area, commuters begin to alight from the train, especially at St Leonards, which is home to the large Royal North Shore Hospital and many major companies.

Commuting by train in Sydney is very convenient, whether you live on the North Shore, in the western suburbs or further away. The CityRail network connects most of the city with reliable and frequent services.

The most convenient tickets for commuters are the RailPass and the FlexiPass. The RailPass is valid between any two stations for either seven days or fourteen days, but, if you can afford to pay upfront for a longer period, the FlexiPass is a more cost-effective option.

After many more commuters have left the train at North Sydney, we reach Milsons Point. The train is about to rattle over the Sydney Harbour Bridge and I always appreciate the wonderful views of the coastline, the water below, and the Central Business District of Sydney on the opposite side of the bridge.

As the train rumbles over the bridge, landmarks on the opposite side of the harbour appear. The tall, thin Sydney Tower stretches over 300 metres into the sky and Sydney Opera House gleams in the sunshine on its prominent position at the edge of the harbour.

At the end of the bridge, as a vivid contrast to the light and beauty of the view, the train plunges into the darkness of a tunnel. My journey is almost at an end. At 08:35am, I join the stream of commuters departing the train at Town Hall station in the centre of Sydney.

As I leave Town Hall station, I turn left into the Queen Victoria Building, a quaint, Victorian shopping arcade, which is a delight to walk through on my way to work. As I emerge into the light of day on busy Market Street, my working day is about to begin.

1:12 pm:
I dodge an old woman pushing a handcart and slide through the door swinging shut behind her. My subway card is out and ready. I push through the turnstile and dash down the stairs to the platform where I weave through the disembarking passengers. Both trains are there, the B express through Brooklyn and the Q Broadway express. I have one second to decide.

1:13 pm and three seconds:
I have to get to 8th Avenue and 38th street in Manhattan by 2 pm. My one second thought goes something like this: The B skips Cortelyou, Beverly, and Parkside in Brooklyn, but takes three stops to get to West 4th in Manhattan where I’ll transfer to the A/C/E and ride another three or four stops, depending if I catch an express or not, before getting to 8th and 42nd, whereas the Q hits the three stops in Brooklyn, but only stops three times after crossing the Manhattan Bridge before Times Square, so the B will be one less stop if I can catch the uptown A express and the added time of a transfer will be negligible compared to the two avenue blocks I’ll have to walk to get from the Q station in Times Square to my office.

1:13 pm and four seconds:
I jump into the closing doors of the B train, get stuck, and wait for the conductor to open and close the doors in what is either is an attempt to release me or an attempt to crush my body for delaying the departure. There is a woman with a stroller, two teenagers, and a group of five soccer players all moving toward the middle of the train where the last two remaining seats are open. The train lurches forward, knocking them off balance, and I take advantage, sliding into a seat and closing my eyes. I drift into a mass transit half-sleep and vaguely hope the woman with the stroller made it to the other seat.

1:45 pm:
The conductor says something about transferring to the F, V, D, A, C, and E trains, pulling me from my trance. I stand and wait with the stroller woman (apparently she didn’t get the seat) for the train to slow and let us off.

1:46 pm:
The doors open and I leap ahead of the woman and her time-consuming stroller, run up the stairs two at a time, and get to the upper platform just as the A train is closing its doors. I jump in, get stuck, and wait for the conductor to open and close the doors and release/crush my body.

1:54 pm:
The doors open at 42nd Street – Port Authority. It is too hot to run without sweating, but I am too late to make it by 2 pm without running. I run up the stairs. I run through the underground station to 40th Street.

1:56 pm:
I run up more stairs. I run to 38th Street, narrowly avoiding being hit by a van at 39th.

1:58 pm:
I stop in front of my office, retuck my shirt, and walk in, sweaty, but on time.