The Indian pacific, Sydney revisited, and a fond farewell to my first Australia adventure…
Although spending 3 days solidly on a train may not sound the most exciting of adventures, I was looking forward to my last of the great southern rail journeys across Australia – the Indian pacific, from Perth to Sydney.
I had a carry on bag full of books, sleeping bag, change of clothes, pyjamas, munchies for the journey, and a mini electronic solitaire game I had been given as a leaving present at CCYP to stave off boredom on the journey ahead. After engaging in conversation with the guy next to me, a Parisienne IT Engineer, it wasn’t long before the guy in the seat in front turned around and started to chat as well. He also happened to be a web designer from Paris, and so we 3 became travelling buddies for the next 2 days to Adelaide.
Our first stop on the train, and the chance to stretch our legs, was in Kalgoorlie, a mining town along the Kalgoorlie boulder, famous for its mining of gold and nickel. It would perhaps have had something of a different impression on us if it hadn’t been for the fact that our time there lasted fom 10:40pm until 1:40am… Our tourist snapshots are all shrouded in darkness, or basking in the lamplight and various florescent signs flashing in decidedly closed shops.
Knowing there wouldn’t be another opportunity for fresh air until the next day, my companions and I ambled along the main street, peering into shop windows and taking pictures of anything out in the open and not subject to daytime opening hours. The only things open at that time of night were, naturally, a kebab shop and a pub or two, but as we ventured along a little further we spotted the golden arches in the distance, and visions of ´Mcflurries´ pushed us on.
On reaching the entrance, we discovered the restaurant part was shut, but the drive through section was open 24hours. Shrugging our shoulders, we thought we might try making an order anyway, and stood (on foot) in the queue behind the cars in front, toddled up to the speaker and gave our order. After a pause from the other end, the voice declared, however apologetically, ¨I’m sorry, but you have to be in a vehicle to make an order¨..
We were still discussing the missing form of transport in our situation when a car pulled up beside us with 3 local teenagers from ´kal´, consisting of 1 very drunk girl, one slightly drunk girl, and one sober male (who was also, thankfully, the driver). I would like to say we were cordially invited to join them in their car, but we didn’t really have much of a choice, as the three of us were ushered into the small car with the full forceful gusto of the Australian hospitality. As we sidled up to the counter to pay for the order, the three of us squished in the back seat beamed at the cashier and told him we had ´found a car now´.
After these bizarrer hilarious events, and sitting with our Ice-creams resting on our laps, the three of us started realising how completely insane our fellow vehicle occupants were, and that the car did not only have a large dent in the back bumper, but was also making rather worrying grinding sounds. More importantly perhaps, was the way in which the most drunken of the two girls was very keen to take the French men back and ´party with them´, and for a few anxious moments the three of us asked in whispers what to do if they actually tried to kidnap us or hold us hostage in some random house party in Kalgoorlie. Crazy they were, no doubt about it, but certainly harmless, and the three of us were dropped off at the train station in time for our 1:40am departure, and another overnight in the train.
Our next stop, in the afternoon of the next day, was the ´town´ of Cook. when I use the word town, I mean it in the loosest sense of the word… for this place had only 5 inhabitants, and for miles all around it there was literally nothing but complete desert. A quick wander around, showed an overgrown swimming pool and some abandoned and empty buildings. The most prominent ´tourist attraction´ were two of the ´historical gaol cells´ of Cook. I vaguely wondered why you would need to detain people in cells when a barren outback landscape seemed more than sufficient as a lack of escape route..
Back onto the train again to continue on what is the longest stretch of straight track in the world – across the Nullarboor plain. From the viewpoint of the train, this meant endless miles of flat orange sand consisting of sparse bushy growth. It was made even more drawn out by the lack of audio commentary, which was always announced beforehand and never broadcast to the sitting red passengers.
Arriving into Adelaide on Tuesday morning, after 2 days on the train, I was both relieved to have reached 2 thirds of the way, and exhausted to think of another day to come. On re-boarding 2 hours later to the same seat, the 2 French guys who had left in Adelaide were replaced by a lovely elderly lady called Anne in the seat beside me who kept feeding me chocolates and telling stories about her grandchildren, and an overly chatty man in the seat behind me who seemed obsessed with any kind of government and religious conspiracy known to man.
I was spouted dates, names and secrets which ranged from a templar sect as the vessels of all wisdom, to the buried truth of water salinisation. I was spared a overly extensive friendly chat on these topics by 3 others looking for a 4th addition for their card games, and happily spend that evening playing Hearts and Rummi.
Our one and only stop on the last leg from Adelaide to Sydney was in Broken Hill, a lovely little town known for its art galleries and silver mining. It was a welcome evening stroll full of lots of quaint antique shops and cluttered rooms stuffed with brick-a-brack, and I managed to nip into a gallery or two before they closed for the day, and we had to jump back on the train for the very last time as Sydney drew ever closer.
The bush fires which ravaged entire towns and took the lives of over 200 people, started the morning I left perth, and kept on burning and spreading throughout Victoria on my journey across Australia. The staff on board had advised anyone with relatives in that area to get in contact as soon as possible, but the full extent of the fires didn’t really become evident to most of us until we came into contact with newspapers and news channels en route, or on arrival into Sydney.It was heartbreaking to hear some of the stories from those involved.
Apart from some few updates on the damage done by the bush fires, were also given cricket score updates on the match between Australia and New Zealand. It seemed an incredibly strange effort to make considering we were in the middle of the outback, but then again this was Australia…perhaps I shouldnt have been so surprised.
I was incredibly lucky to have been offered a place to stay in Sydney by Graeme and Carol Kent, who used to live and work in the Netherlands many years ago, and led a youth group that my sister attended in the Scots Church in Rotterdam. They were away for a few days when I first arrived, and as much as it sounds heavenly, I found it very hard to get used to roaming around a house with no other inhabitants, a thing I have never really had to endure, even before I set out on my travels.
It was a good thing I was based in the outer suburbia of Sydney, because when I ventured into Sydney centre again after recovering from the journey on the Indian Pacific I had a bit of a big city-complex to say the least!
Perth was the only city I had experienced for the previous 3 months, and even before then, I wouldn’t really have called Darwin or Alice Springs bustling skyscraper metropolises. I opted for the shelter of ´the rocks´ on the first day, to help me get back into big city mentality. It was traditionally an estate or district for the working class of Sydney, housing many immigrants from Ireland and Poland. It has a character that is lucky to still exist, as I found out after a trip to the Rocks discovery museum, where I saw a short documentary on the fight to keep the housing area from being knocked down in 1973 and replaced by modern faceless highrise buildings. After a huge amount of protest, a compromise was reached, and much of the area is still standing, with only a small shadow of office blocks looming on the outskirts. An adorable market is on every weekend, and full of small art stalls, and delicious foods to sample as you walk along.
My ´revisit´ to Sydney was meant to be full of the things I hadn’t had the chance to do previously, or wanted to glimpse and enjoy another time. I was hoping to spend time reading in the Botanics again and letting the view of the opera house and harbour bridge take my breath away on every upward glance. The reality of my first 7 or 8 days in Sydney was that it simply would not stop pouring down with rain! Being pretty used to the rain after 6 years in Scotland, I tried my best not to let this dampen my endeavours, though it did mean a reworking of my original plans. Instead of walking on the beach and wandering along Woolloomolloo bay, I visited the contemporary art gallery and an exhibition on the jitterbug in the national library. Thankfully, also, the weather didn’t stop me from catching up with travelling friends from Sydney and beyond, that I had met over the previous 7 months.
I did manage to get to one sight that had been recommend by many other travellers as I went around Australia, and that was Taronga Zoo. I am not usually fond of zoo´s as a general (personal) rule, but after the depressing experience of Adelaide wildlife park in which the animals looked both unwell and unhappy, I was hoping to leave with a more positive image, and had heard only good things of Taronga. I went with Emmin, who i had first met in Alice Springs, and who had, unusually, followed a similar route to me from then on, including Darwin, Perth and now Sydney. The trip to Taronga almost immediately feels like you are getting away from the hustle and bustle, as you board a ferry and pull away from the Circular Quay (bypassing the Opera house as you go). After a short ferry crossing, we took a cable car up to the zoo itself. I don’t think I will ever quite forget the image I had of an Orangutan sitting on a tall pole, with the Sydney skyline behind it in the distance!
I thoroughly enjoyed the zoo, which also had a spectacular bird show with some impressively trained birds in it, whereas the seal show was slightly more stereotypical, as we watched them balance balls and clap their flippers together on command. In almost every area you went to in the zoo, you were never far from the sight of the city horizon. I somehow don’t think the animals appreciate the view quite as much as the visitors do though!
With only a few days left in Australia as a whole, I did manage to squeeze in one more sports game, this time a super 14 Rugby match between the HSBC Warritahs and the New Zealand Chiefs. I understood this sport the most out of my other cricket and AFL experiences, and even enjoyed a Kangaroo burger before the match, which I must say was particularly yummy : )
My quick return to Sydney also signalled my last stop in Australia before heading on to Bali and South East Asia. I tried my best to prepare somewhat for the ‘next stage’ of my trip, which began to make me more than a little nervous, but also what I felt a necessary challenge. Australia has been a fantastic experience, with some unique environments and unique and wonderful people I will always have a fondness for. I hope to return sometime in the future and revisit places already seen and explore those yet to be.
I am also content to leave oz with what I have already taken from it in 7 ½ months, and embark a little into more foreign cultures and (i hope) some rewarding volunteer teaching experience in Bali in particular. Until my next update – g’day mates from ‘austraylya’, until we meet again in Bali, Indonesia!
With love
Becca x
