Indian Pacific

Over the weekend I took the Indian Pacific from Sydney to Perth. Over four thousand kilometres in one train journey lasting three days and three nights. Some might say that only a fool would submit themself to such a trip, and only an old fool at that. The Chinese taxi driver who took me to Sydney Central Station literally cackled when i told him it cost nine hundred bucks and i still had to pay for food and agreed that he thought I was mad. I was hoping for an old fashioned charming and perhaps even rather romantic experience (hence the schmaltzy photo above) and I was really glad that that is what I had. It may have been somewhat different a tale if I had had to share the 'cosy' cabin with anyone else, but luckily the stewardess took pity on me and wangled things so I didn't have to share with any pensioners.

A three day journey is a long time, especially for the girl who gets restless and agitated on a plane after about 5 hours, but in some ways it wasn't quite long enough. Firstly there was the fun of settling myself in my cabin, ever so nonchalantly not caring whether or not I'd have a room mate, and then when it was clear I had the place to myself there was the fun of checking out how everything worked. The old fashioned radio buttons, the venetian blinds tucked between glass and the beds that appear from nowhere (one is behind one armchair and the other lowers from the ceiling).



Just plain looking out the window took up an awful lot of time. I was mesmerized by the largely empty but constantly changing landscape rolling by.

Here is the outback red landscape...



Here are the wheat fields of south Australia...



And here some grain stores...



And when I was in need of a change of scenery there was the chance to venture out and explore the narrow snaking corridors, the toilets with their 70s yellow formica, the menu for the next three days and the lounge dining car. After baked potato with chilli and sour cream and a single serve bottle of red wine it was back to my cabin and more window gazing- this time at the night sky. The Milky Way was a vivid swirl above and there were millions of bright stars. We seemed to keep pace with it, or rather to be motionless with the sky as the land rolled by. Beautiful.

After a creaking, rocking, shuttling night's sleep in a surprisingly comfy and cosy berth it was up early for a tour of Broken Hill. The humour was decidedly elderly, as was the content but the view of the train (all 21 carriages, car transporter and engine)
from up on top of the line of lode was cool.



There were four stops in all, which is perhaps why I felt the journey wasn't quite long enough - we seemed to be always on our way to the next place. On the second afternoon we had a few hours in Adelaide where I had coffee and a piadina in a cafe overlooking there arts market. The next morning we got out to wander Cook, a now largely deserted town whose only purpose is a rest and changeover stop for the drivers. Here is the Cook Country Club, established 2006 complete with badminton court, basketball courts and nine hole golf course - the last particularly impressive in a place where water is imported at a cost akin to fuel.



On the last evening we rolled in to Kalgoorlie amidst a spectacular lightning storm (which made the tour of the open mine impossible more is the pity) and I wandered leisurely out for a look at the historic town and after a quick trip to the supermarket scuttled nervously back to the train after considering all those pubs, men and utes. Here is the cloud thunderhead that flashed and forked as darkness fell...



A last night's sleep in a bed that seemed the safest in the world and we arrived in east perth on tuesday morning. The whole experience was reminiscent of sailing off the west coast of scotland in terms of the gentle pace, the long periods of inactivity and the opportunity to ponder as the world drifts by. It was a great way to leave, especially when the preceding weeks were filled with au revoirs et adieus. A good way to catch up with myself and all of the last four years. And it may be the beginning of something else - next time the tran siberian railway or one of india's great train journeys or the train through the Rockies. Who can say.