By Cherie Theissen
How to choose between the Ghan, traveling from south (Adelaide) to north (Darwin) or The Indian Pacific, slicing across the continent from Western Australia (Perth) to Victoria (Sydney)? It was wine that helped my partner, David and me, decide.
We would board at Perth, a pretty city on the Swan River, surrounded by 40 wineries, revered for their Chenin Blancs, Verdelhos and Rosés. The perfect way to try them was on board Captain Cook Cruises’ River Lady, an excursion that featured winery visits, a 3-course gourmet lunch, non stop on-board wine tastings, and music, music, music. The next day we would embark on the Indian Pacific, leaving it at Adelaide, a journey of some 44 hours, in order to cycle a little of the Riesling Trail and sample some of those prize winning Clare Valley Rieslings.
Our plan was perfect; the Swan River Cruise sublime. There’s nothing better than a indolent day on a idyllic river sampling wines, followed the next day by a leisurely train journey, chatting with fellow travelers over gourmet meals while an outback panorama unreels beyond the window, and kangaroos bounce by.
Forty years ago the Indian Pacific made its first trip – rolling 4352 kilometers from Perth to Sydney. It’s been pretty much chugging along, 4 days a week from either direction, ever since. Now, however, it’s got me aboard, and I’m eager for lunch. In the meanwhile, outside our window, the Avon valley meanders past.
Our luncheon companion is a friendly ex-army man from Perth. Eventually we start in on politics, helped by another glass of verdehlo, a wine worth discovering. It slips down like silk alongside the sea trout with hollandaise sauce and asparagus.
We finish coffee and politics as the valley terrain falls away to flat wheat fields and eventually to mallee scrub, a type of eucalpyt found only ‘down under’, according to our companion, who suddenly points: “Those roos are everywhere. Damn pests.” “Where, where?” I follow his finger. “Just gone behind them rocks.” Drat!
The afternoon is spent in futile roo watching and listening to our sound system blending poetry, history, songs, stories, interviews, and local music in an entertaining and informative program.
Later we’re invited to the lounge car for a glass of bubbly, an information session, and a meet and greet and sit alongside Sarah and Kevin, on their first trip. Kevin has just landed a job working on one of the oilrigs, now a large employer in booming Perth. Her one concern, Sarah tells me, is the city’s remoteness. (It’s actually 2000 km. away from any other major Australian city.)
“There’s a roo”, Kevin interrupts. I flip around to look, but there’s someone in the way and by the time I shift, we’ve scooted past. “No worries, you’ll see lots. They’re everywhere.”
The sun is down by the time we return from dinner. No point roo watching now. With the time change, our first stop won’t be Kalgoorlie until midnight, where we’ve booked a “whistle stop” tour. Sure enough, close to midnight we’re blearily awoken, escorted into a bus and soon swept up into the night and the wind to stare down into the immense Super Pit, 3.6 km long and 512 meters deep and still operating 24/7.
The town itself, with a current population near 30,000, is near what’s described as the “richest square mile on earth” – the Golden Mile. At midnight, however, shivering and slapped by wind-driven debris, I can’t get enthused over the isolated town’s prosperity. Later I fall aside dreaming of huge, dark maws and monster trucks swallowing miners.
And awake to an endless flat expanse of rust limestone – the Nullarbor Plain, the world’s largest single piece of limestone. This section is also the longest straight stretch of railway in the world, at 478 km.
We’ll soon be in the ghost town of Cook, 1100 km from Adelaide and 1500 km from Perth. Once a hospital stood here, a base for Australia’s flying doctors. There was also a school, a post office, stores, hotel, and a ‘standing room only’ jail. Now 4 people live here, employed by Great Southern Rail. It’s a refueling stop, allowing passengers an opportunity to stretch their legs and soak up a little history while swatting flies.
Back on the train, we turn on our audio and listen to the couple from Cook, Ivor and Jan, tell us how they came to be in here, and why they stay. Jan can remember how it used to be, and her voice is dreamy and ambivalent.
Actually, there’s a lot of really interesting information coming over that sound system. We’ve told about the 10,000 camels that were brought in from Arabia in the 1860s to transport goods. Once the railway came through they were made redundant and retired to the outback. Apparently feral camels now number 500,000, but they must be somewhere else today, with the kangaroos probably.
The train has now entered a more verdant area, red sand dunes are popping up, bedecked with green shrubs that our lunch companion, Allan, a retired electrician traveling with wife, Eva, tells us is saltbush. “It’s a kind of short red gum. Farmers discovered that if they let their sheep feed on it, it made for very tasty meat. The meat is really sought after. It’s on the menu here; you should have it.”
So we munch on a warm salad of roasted eggplant, zucchini, and baby carrot with sticky balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and eventually go on to a main course of lamb and pumpkin pie with sweet potato puree and crisp greens.
“You seen a roo yet?” Allan asks. “There’s one there under the gums.”
I drop my fork and splatter my pants. “Which gum?”
“Ooops. No worries, you’ll see plenty.” A freight train is now passing us on the other track.
That’s what he thinks. Early tomorrow we’ll be in Adelaide. I try not to sulk.
The next morning, after a breakfast brought to our room, we step reluctantly off the train, in agreement that there is no better way to experience the vastness and remoteness of the Aussie outback. The Indian Pacific combines stress free travel with great food, and wonderful opportunities to interact with the locals, creating an experience instead of just a trip. Too bad, though, about those roos.
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Cherie Theissen is a freelance travel writer and regular contributor to The Traveler
