Day Four – Arrival

Well we survived a trip that could have driven us insane. We travelled 65 hours, 4352 kilometres and roughly 20 muesli bars. We are actually very lucky that the trip is ending today. The carriage we were on has turned feral in the one night since it was cleaned with every drain in every bathroom becoming clogged and garbage beginning to spread all over the aisles.

Also it seems someone had broken into the carriage last night and replaced my usual impeccably groomed self with a red-eyed maniac who stank of travel and cheap meals. My joints ached like they had been wrenched around all night, which they essentially had, and I couldn’t face myself in the mirror because of the unusual angle my neck was stuck at.

Our last night aboard the train had been great fun as we’d met two students from Queensland who, thankfully, lowered themselves to playing our ridiculous ‘train’ games that we shamelessly stole from Callum. They also told us some fun stories about the people they’d travelled with in their carriage, some of them sounded as bad as the one’s we had met. We also got to watch the implosion of the UTS students who were having some huge row over politics or economics or possibly religion, we weren’t quite sure but a huge row was going on and those words were thrown around a lot. In their defence all of them really did show a lot of passion for the argument and that is quite important in life.

Falling asleep was harder to do because of the excitement of arriving in Sydney and it was nearly two o’clock in the morning when I finally dozed off. Sadly the attendants saw fit to wake us up at 5:45 to announce the birthday of a 66 year old passenger. Even she looked slightly put out by the loud congratulations over the P.A system. We were then informed we had half an hour to grab breakfast before they would stop serving it. At around ten the train began to pull through the main suburbs of Sydney and we began to see what we had travelled for four days to get to.

I can’t say I will miss the India Pacific but I can’t say I didn’t really enjoy the trip either. It takes a long time and is probably a fair bit more expensive than a plane and apparently the service has been greatly reduced. But I still don’t hesitate to recommend it to everyone as a great way to have a ‘new’ experience.

Day Three

We arrived in Adelaide early in the morning and were eager to jump off the train and get a proper cooked breakfast. We were advised by the married couple to get a taxi into Adelaide as it was faster and more reliable than the coach service that operated from the station. We jumped into the first available taxi and were immediately taken for a ride by a cabbie who knew we were from out of town and decided to teach us a valuable lesson about being specific when a running meter is involved.

Actually he did, to his credit, drop us right in front of an excellent cafe where we got a good breakfast and some life-giving coffee. Once we had fed the body it was time to feed the mind and we strolled through the CBD of Adelaide, pausing to admire some of the handsome old buildings that had been excellently preserved. Being the so-called “Festival City”, there was a lot of beautiful art to see from the streets; from the coins embedded in the pavement to the big steel balls proudly erected in the middle of the walkway. Sadly our time ran out and we had to hail another taxi, this time being very specific as to where we were going.

A lot of new people had boarded the train since we’d arrived in Adelaide. One fairly large group seemed to be travelling together and turned out to be a group of students from UTS (University of Technology Sydney) that had been attending a sustainability conference. For the most part they were polite but one of them, and I single him out to be the target of my irritation, developed a habit of dropping into our chairs whenever we got up to go to the dining cart and then pretending not to notice when we came back. The little git.

We got into Broken Hill in the late afternoon and were treated to a nicely preserved city centre. Broken Hill is another mining town but it rates higher than Karlgoorlie for the number of artists that call it home. There is a touching memorial to soldiers lost both in World War I & II as well as a smaller, but still handsome, memorial to those lost in the Vietnam War. There is also a rather eerie restaurant that is based on a big hill over-looking the city. It looms over the town like some Bond Villain’s hideout and feels a bit out of place.

Tomorrow we shall arrive in Sydney and once more sleep in comfortable beds!

The People

I could devote an entire book to the people I’ve met so far on this trip but that would take a long time so instead I will devote a single post to 4 people that have really stuck out. These individuals have introduced themselves to me, usually while I’ve been sitting in the dining compartment, and each of them can definitely be described as a “Character”

Satan Gilbert Fox

This was the curious individual I mentioned earlier. Mr. Fox is of the belief that he is a direct descendent of Satan. I hesitate to challenge this assumption as he also seems a harmless sort whose only crime is to attempt to sell his various artworks to people sitting in the dining cart.

Mr. Fox approached me while I was working on some other writing project. He introduced himself and shook me by the hand before launching into a lengthy explanation about how he was a direct descendent of Satan and was considered a prince by some. Sadly this would not make him the strangest person I’ve ever met so I didn’t really think much of his behaviour. Unfortunately he then pulled out some very interesting art-work that he attempted to sell to me. I have a lot of trouble saying no to people who are trying to sell me stuff or ask for money so I felt like I was in a very awkward position where I would end up purchasing most of his art. Luckily I was saved by the duty officer who politely asked Mr. Fox to follow him out of the cart where they could have a polite chat.

Apparently it’s not legal to attempt to sell goods or services to passengers onboard the Indian Pacific and Mr. Fox had run afoul of this rule. Luckily for him he was simply reprimanded and given a free meal but he could have been put off the train at our next stop. Not a desirable outcome.

The Proud Nanna

I have sadly forgotten this lady’s name as Kieran and I had been having a few drinks when she approached us and introduced herself.

For the purpose of this post we shall refer to her as the ‘proud nanna’ because that is just what she was. Nanna started by asking us where we were from, before debating with us as to whether we were being honest. Then the usual disbelief followed when she found out I was in fact old enough to drink and Kieran was not my father. Finally she settled down into the booth opposite ours and began to tell us her life story, punctuated with extremely expressive hand gestures.

It was Nanna’s first trip on the Indian Pacific and she had loved every minute of it. The joy of being able to wander up and down at will instead of being confined to a tiny airline seat was the very peak of technological achievement as far as she was concerned. It also turned out that she was travelling with her youngest daughter and her husband who was back in the carriage snoozing. Her youngest was very well behaved, unlike some of the other children onboard, and, apparently, her grand-children.

Nanna was full of stories, many of them unfortunately unprintable, but she did keep us thoroughly enthralled for a few hours and did not kill us (always a plus).

The Married Couple

These two empty-nesters joined in our discussions with the Nanna and introduced themselves as frequent travellers on the Indian Pacific.

They were full of some interesting anecdotes about the train itself; their first trip aboard, the various tricks they use to secure a cheaper sleeper, their habits and methods to deal with the boredom that eventually sets in and their plans for the holiday.

I make no excuses for the fact that I am fairly out of shape. I can run up a hill and not die but push me beyond that and I’ll break down into one of the ‘before’ candidates for the Biggest Loser. With this in mind I was put utterly to shame when the couple described all the jogging and extreme sports they were into. They white-water rafted and quad biked in between all the hiking they did and still found time to work successful jobs, one as a rail engineer and the other as a mad scientist (I kid you not).

The sadder story they told us was how much the Indian Pacific had changed in just 4 years. Apparently the train used to have a lot more services available to the Red carriage passengers. They spent a bit of time talking about the lounge car that used to be available which had big comfortable couches and a fully stocked bar. After a day and a half sitting upright these stories sounded like a paradise that had been cruelly snatched away by a cruel and budget slashing devil.

Ultimately all of these people will get off at Adelaide and, though new people will replace them, it will be hard to replace the bond that we’d somehow created.

Day Two

Well we arrived in Kalgoorlie late last night and the entire town was completely dead. The only pub we wandered into had already called last drinks. Kalgoorlie is primarily a mining town so I’m not sure what we were expecting but I don’t think we expected to be as disappointed. Interestingly enough we saw three brothels and one was actually disguised as a museum. I have no moral objection to brothels or the service they provide but I can’t say I liked seeing a ‘specials’ board displaying the girls like they were dishes to order.

The first night of sleep was actually pretty easy, the constant rocking motion making it easy to nod off, and we didn’t pick up nearly enough people at Kalgoorlie to make it noisy. The seats were not the most comfortable beds but they were miles better than airline seats for getting a good rest in and although I woke up a bit sore the pain quickly faded away. The Indian Pacific is equipped with showers that actually have decent water pressure and fairly hot water. You strip down and lather up which is when the trouble begins. The first problem is that the train is still moving at a fairly good pace while you are standing in what is essentially a slippery cubicle so the slightest bump or jolt sends you flying around the place. The second problem is that the water pressure will drop without any real warning, going from a gentle mist to a stinging spray in less than a second. By the end of my first shower I felt like I had been gently water-boarded and had the bruises to prove it.

It also transpired that we had somehow lost time while we were travelling. The track is big but it can still only support on train at a time so there were frequent points in the night where we’d apparently had to stop and allow a freight train to pass. This put us about forty five minutes behind schedule which meant that we could only make a short stop in Cook, a semi-ghost town.

Cook is described as Australia’s “loneliest” town as the population stays static at 2. The only visitors the town ever sees are the passengers from the Indian Pacific and they only stay long enough to take photos of the abandoned hospital and school. It is a bit of a stark reminder of how empty Australia can be and how the tiniest change to a train route can mean the difference between life and death to a small town community.

Tomorrow we arrive in Adelaide and bid farewell to most of the people we’ve been sharing our carriage with.

Day One

We got on the train without much incident besides Kieran nearly leaving his travelling hat in the departure terminal. Our home for the next three days is two upright red chairs that recline a bit. They are quite comfortable but in that way that will become uncomfortable in the next five hours. Luckily we have a dining car a short walk down the train that we can go and relax in and we are forecast to stop in Kalgoorlie this evening.

This wouldn’t be an Australian train if it wasn’t also a licensed venue so we will be able to purchase beer and wine on board should we feel the need. The advertised food sounds very good but we are pretty sure it will turn out to simply be glorified airline cuisine. The Gold Class carriages have proper chefs (they walk through our carriage to get to their jobs) but we have a very friendly crew manning the canteen so I don’t feel we’ve been wronged.

I did manage to make myself look a bit of an idiot by simply handing the nice man behind the counter my debit card in order to pay for beer and wine. Without any prompting from me he had copied down my passport number, copied my card and opened up a tab for me. I have a nearly paralysing fear of debt and the like so I would have confronted the man about it but he seemed so happy about it that I didn’t have the heart to.

We sat in the dining car and enjoyed a quiet drink while the landscape sped past in an almost hypnotic fashion. I was drinking the classic Carlton Draught and Kieran was sipping at a small bottle of house red. The beer was nothing remarkable but Kieran did insist that I let everyone know just how bad the wine was, comparing it unfavourably to vinegar.

The earlier problem with the account reared its head as we discovered that we couldn’t close our account without spending at least $20 so we ended up with a few cans of coke and some twix bars. The dining car is small considering it serves three carriages but none of the carriages are even close to full yet so we have space to stretch out. More passengers are due to get on in Kalgoorlie tonight.

The current complement of passengers is interesting and we have quite a few ‘characters’ on board. One person in particular seems to think that he is one of the direct descendents of Satan. I haven’t really seen any evidence to support this claim but by the same token there’s none to refute it. Nonetheless we shall be keeping an eye on him and I will keep everyone updated.

I’ve been living in Australia for two years now but the furthest I’ve gotten out of town is the weekly jaunt to Fremantle for work or a visit to Joondalup to see family. With this in mind when the chance came up to visit Sydney I seized on it and the chance to see a different side of Australia.

The original plan was to drive from Perth to Sydney, a trip that would likely take us three days if we drove 9 – 12 hours every day. Unfortunately we decided to scrap this idea as the cost of fuel, food and accommodation would put it out of our budget reach. So the other option seemed to be fly directly to Sydney, it was cheaper and quicker, but ultimately we also decided against this as it wouldn’t really allow us to see much of the outback. Thankfully there was a third option; hop on the transcontinental train from Perth to Adelaide and then Sydney.

The Indian Pacific was the first uninterrupted transcontinental rail train linking Perth to Sydney from late February 1970. The train measures 711 metres, weighs 1375 tonnes and travels a total of 4352 kilometres (roughly 65 hours). The passenger accommodation ranges from the luxury sleepers to the ‘cheap’ seats which are very reminiscent of Airplane seating.

What particularly attracted me to this method of transport was that one of my heroes, Bill Bryson, had made a similar trip and had commented that it was a good way to see Australia. Unfortunately with no publishing company to pay for our voyage we had to choose the cheap Red service seats. Even with a fairly hefty student discount it was still much more expensive than flying.

The train leaves Perth at 12:00 in the afternoon on Wednesday the 7^th of July and arrives in Sydney on Saturday the 10^th of July at 10:15 a.m. We’ll be spending most of our time on the train but there are a fair amount of stops; including a quick stop-off at the semi-Ghost town of Cook, in the mining town of Kalgoorlie, a morning stop in Adelaide, an afternoon trip into Broken Hill and finally we get to Sydney. I probably won’t be able to upload these till I actually arrive in Sydney but know that they will be written on the train.