Beyond the Journey

I took my husband on the Indian Pacific for his fiftieth birthday, something he’d wanted to do for mine, but it never eventuated. This year we took that trip.

We were both in desperate need of a holiday, time away from as many responsibilities as we could. Fortunately, our children are old enough that this is something we can do.

Still though, some might think the Indian Pacific an interesting choice for a number of reasons. One is our age; I think there is a bit of a preconceived idea that a trip like this is more for those who are retired or close to it. I think I had that thought, but I also for some reason, thought that would work in my favour. I thought I’d be left alone – not quite being of their demographic after all. And reason number two - let’s face it those who know me best know that being sociable isn’t really my happy place. Oh, I can do it and in certain circumstances I ever really enjoy it but it takes its own toll on me and I have to hide away for a bit and recharge. That’s okay though because I’m used to it – to my idiosyncrasies. It is the ‘tism’ part of my personality some would say. Never having been diagnoses I’ll just say I know how to manage my quirks after living with them for all these years.

None the less I book the tickets and time off work (allowing for a week afterwards to ensure I have enough down time to recover).

The journey as it turned out – for as short as it was – was interesting enough for me to want to reflect on and share, (and I share it with the permission of those involved).

Something to note: Life itself is a journey or as JM Barrie wrote “it is an awfully big adventure”, and sometimes I think it is easy to forget that. We look at life like it is a series of destinations that are the focus when really it is the path between these points and how we choose to go down them that tell the tale of our life. Life is full of journeys – chapters – short and long, and even small moments can have a lasting impact. Those few days on the train gave me some wonderful memories.

Perhaps unsurprisingly the journey started on the platform, where we cued and waited, which was to be expected. The lines for different ticket types were clearly signed and the wait began, because honestly we may have been a little early but we were hardly the only ones. Besides time like this is good for people watching and I love people watching. There was plenty to see and not just those waiting to get on our train.

There was of course an abundance of what appeared to be older couples waiting in line with us. There was a passing group of Japanese students who stopped to all check their phones at the same time. There were also plenty of regular commuters. Then there were the things that stood out, like the person who left their luggage unattended to speak to an IP employee, the gay couple who looked as though they didn’t want to be labelled that way immediately given the personal space between them despite the fact the rest of their body language screamed that they were together. Oh, and there was a woman who asked a question and rushed off before hearing the whole of the answer and going to the wrong place.

I stood on the platform, watched people and figured it would be a good quiet trip in which to get some reading and writing done, because surely, I had very little in common with these folk, especially with me being as prickly as I can be. Boy did I get that wrong.

Once we’d checked in and debated about leaving our carry-on bags on the platform, along with everyone else’s, under the watchful (let’s face it I wasn’t so convinced about that) eye of some staff, we collected our complimentary hot drinks. I’ll admit the bag thing was hard for me because I don’t particularly trust people – no surprise given my employment. My husband had the same concerns for similar reasons to be fair. Drinks in hand though, after deciding this process must work because they presumably do it all the time, (and after concluding that for the price of the ticket it was the type of trip that simply couldn’t tolerate things such as theft) we found a spot and returned to people watching.

During this time there also occurred a conversation between the two of us and I won’t disclose what the kicking off point for it was, but the idea was floated as to how many bodies I could drop on a three-night journey across the country. In the form of a story of course. Yes, I know murder on a train has been done plenty of times before and by far better writers than me, so the challenge was to find a way to do it differently. The story couldn’t involve serial or mass killers, and it had to be done in such a way as to have minimal impact on the journey itself. So, the challenge was set and thus I had my plan for the trip.

Before boarding the train though we had chosen to participate in the first of our off the train experiences – a harbour cruise and lunch. Let the booze begin to flow.

A coach ride to the harbour and onto our boat. Bubbles to begin with for me and a beer for him. Once they’d checked our meal preferences we were allowed out on deck. Perhaps this will be no surprise to anyone that we were the first out there with our second drink in hand. It was truly a lovely day for it, blue skies dotted with clouds and warm sunshine. We saw the requisite sites and took some photos, and the soundtrack was good enough to dance to. Here I may have broken suggested behaviour a little because you can’t really dance on the deck of a boat if you need to maintain three points of contact at all times (yes, I know those who work with me are thinking three points of what – they said contact not restraint because I had to do a double take of that as well).

The food was lovely, the drinks kept flowing and there was very little talking to those sitting next to us. Plenty of others were chatting up a storm, especially the guy who seemed to have a story for everything, but we weren’t included. Things were going just as planned.

We got the coach back to the station, collected our bags, which were thankfully still there – yes, I am that cynical and was most worried about my writing stuff – and waited to board.

We finally boarded and, in some ways, it felt as though the trip proper had finally commenced. We found our cabin, and guess what? It was small. Then again it was exactly what I had expected. Perhaps this was because I had some understanding of what travelling on a train would be like having done a little reading on the topic. It never ceased to surprise me the number of comments I read about how small the space was that you got and the fact the carriages rocked. It is a train people – one travelling across Australia and in our case, it was very definitely not a private carriage – is that even a thing? I know they are supposed to be bringing some new suite cabins online next year and I’d be interested in seeing what they are like.

Anyway, it was a cute little cabin and as hubby posted with his video don’t fart, the ventilation wasn’t that great, and it was such an enclosed space. I will say here though, if you are precious about bodily functions or need long luxurious showers this kind of travel isn’t for you. The bathrooms are tiny. Maybe even smaller than those in a prison cell.

Our lovely hostess came and gave us our first lot of information and asked what night cap drink we would like waiting in the carriage prior to bed. That was a lovely touch. We waited until pulling away from the station before heading to our allocated lounge car.

Here’s the thing, I knew in my head that the Indian Pacific was a long train, even though the midwinter run has less carriages than other times of the year, I hadn’t figured out the logistics of it though. A certain number of carriages are allocated to each lounge and dining car, so essentially for most of the trip you will be seeing the same group of people. For off the train experiences you mingle with those from other sections but on the train, it is the same faces over and over. Now the honest truth here is I don’t know if our experience would be similar if we were in a different section of the train, what I do know is the people we did most of our travelling with, the ones we ended up socialising with – I know I surprised myself as well – were great. They definitely added to the all-round positive vibe of the trip.

Which takes me back to the lounge car, where I have to note the most crushing part of the trip – there was no spiced rum in the bar. Oh no, I can hear you say, however did you manage. Well, it was rough but they had a very nice vodka and Steve put in some time developing his whiskey palate.

Back to business. The first conversation I struck up was with a gentleman travelling alone. To be fair and I’m not sure he knows this is the reason, but he was one of the few to wear his lanyard from his belt like us, so I’d made up an entire backstory for him that was so off base and I wanted to see if I had anything right. I didn’t. He was in fact a lovely Irishman and we had a great conversation. Perhaps if people in the right places wanted to listen to us, we could have been instrumental in solving a problem or two. Who knows. It was a stimulating conversation, and I find those too few and far between these days – people are often not interested in sharing information and expanding their ideas, they are rather more interested in smacking you in the face with their opinion and assuming they are right and that is all there is to it.

After he left and the carriage started to fill up, I turned my attention to writing. I’d done the requisite socialising to my mind, it was time to watch some scenery, some people and work on my train story.

Only that isn’t how it panned out.

Turns out if you are doing something a little different – like not staring out the window or waxing lyrical about the scenery people want to know what you are doing. So, I told them. Told them, a little tongue in cheek, that I was trying to see how many people I could kill in a story on our train trip. Well, boy, did that get them talking. They were full of suggestions, random ideas, one liners and more. Truthfully it was quite entertaining. I listened, engaged, wrote notes and drank vodka. And apparently somehow became the talk of the train (or our little segment of it) as I was informed on the last day by the women who came up and asked if I was the writer and if she could talk to me.

Thinking about it now, as I write this, I’m reminded of how before we had the written word as a mass form of communication, we had verbal storytelling. People like to be entertained, we’ve just perhaps lost touch with some of the roots of that. Or maybe we’ve come full circle, and we’re so used to verbal even be degrees of separation like social media, that the written is a bit of an oddity. Oh geez, I’ve now got myself into a thought spiral and I need to stop that.

Anyway, as so our trip started, so it continued. He’s the thing. The dining car is set in tables of four. Even I can do that math, it means we are never going to be dining with just the two of us. Go on, I’ll give you a moment to process that. It is like back at summer camp, by virtue of the location you have to socialise. Unless you are really miserable I suppose, and would prefer to spend your entire meal glowering at your plate. It’s difficult to carry on a conversation for two when there are four of you sitting in such close proximity. It could be done if you were determined but think about what you would miss out on. Because here is the thing – everyone has a story to tell. We all have our own life experiences and the experience of travelling on a train like this is only enriched by opening yourself up to the stories of others. I remembered this at some point early on the trip.

I won’t bore you with the play by play of each beat and day, but I do want to hit some of the trip highlights.

Firstly, the sleep on the first night wasn’t great but then in reality I’m rather used to nights like that so honestly I couldn’t even tell you being on the train played a part. I do know a lot of people complain about the rocking of the carriages (uh it’s a train) and the noise (see previous and also earplugs are wonderful). I will say this though, I slept pretty well the following two nights, so it is possible in my case the rocking did help. I know movement helped my kids to sleep when they were babies so maybe there is something in that. However, I digress.

The first night did provide me with some interesting research information for my story, I asked a question of one of the staff who helpfully provided me with the answer, then as I went to walk off, he chased us down the carriage and threw me another very interesting factoid that made me smile. When I’d first asked the question I’d received a funny look from them, but after a moment they seemed to get into the spirit of things. Turns out having a weird mind like mine intrigues and puzzles some but not necessarily in a bad kind of way.

The first morning we slept through the first off the train experience. It was in Broken Hill and from all accounts everyone who participated in the drag walk (Pricilla anyone) had a blast. I’m not sure about the others because I didn’t really hear about those. The reason we missed it was simple – it occurred at some time around 6:30 in the morning and I’m sorry, I’m on leave and I’d much rather be sleeping at that time. Especially when I’d really only gotten to sleep a few hours earlier.

Breakfast, like all meals, was lovely. You had to wait to be seated but when the lounge provides a selection of drinks it’s no great hardship. Again, you eat with whoever gets seated at the same time as you, so it could be someone new that you haven’t spoken to yet. I think you will get as much out of this aspect of this type of travel as you want to. I believe this was the first time someone on the trip asked if they were still alive and it certainly wasn’t the last, somehow it became the running joke of our section of the train.

The journey itself became a way to unplug. The reception just isn’t there when you are literally in the middle of nowhere, so you have to take a moment to quiet your mind, read or just get to know people. Though of course if you’ve downloaded movies or shows onto a device you can stay semi plugged in.

For me it started as a forced reset. Disconnect and connect into what matters to me, my writing. See because while my writing never really stops, a few of my specific things had seemed to hit a wall. I figured I could use this time – no distractions – to at least get myself back on track and while I didn’t finish the big thing I’d wanted to get done; it did put me in the right mindset to get it done well before my two weeks leave was over. (On a side note, with so many people in close proximity it was difficult to really get the disconnect I was looking for and I managed it a short time later by going off the grid for four days at a cabin where there was no one else around and no internet connection).

Another thing happened on the trip. I found myself listening, even butting into conversations – there really is no such thing as privacy in the lounge car. I was socialising. Don’t worry I checked, the sky didn’t fall down and while it was cold in the desert other weather conditions would suggest that indeed hell had not frozen over.

In Adelaide we got on another coach and headed out to McLarenvale to try some wines. We were taken to this cute little restraint right on the ocean called The Star of Greece. Our tour seemed to be the only people in the place and if there were other customers they were kept well away from us. Which as it turned out was probably a good thing. The only disappointing aspect of this trip was that we arrived too late to enjoy what I would assume would have been a spectacular view at sunset.

Once seated a very personable man came around and offered us a choice of wines to which we (myself and the lady sitting next to me) simply responded with ‘we’d like to try them all’. This by the way was a perfectly fine response we were informed and as it turned out the tastings were not restricted, you could ‘try’ something more than once.

When the food came out it was share plates and despite my trepidation it was both lovely and plentiful. I had an absolute laugh with my table neighbour and was more than a little surprised to hear someone request of the musician to play “Alice” (IYKYK). Remember my earlier comment about keeping people away from us. I can unequivocally say there was no way it even entered the realm of possibility that I’d be sitting at a wine tasting event were the average age of the people involved was retired, singing loudly ‘Alice, Alice, who the…’ well you know the rest. I did feel at the time that it was necessary to point out that it wasn’t me who started it and that I was just along for the ride.

There were a couple of other places you could get off the train to stretch your legs. Cook was one, but there isn’t a lot to see there, and it was cold and wet, so we were content to view it from the comfort of the dining car. There was also a night-time stop at Rawlinna station. There was live music and more alcohol but sadly the windy conditions meant there were no fires. It was also freezing bloody cold, so we didn’t stay off for long. More than anything we got off to stretch our legs and see the stars – not as easy a task as we had hoped because the train and the stop provided quite a lot of ambient light. We may have given one of the staff a moment of concern when we went so far into the shadows they couldn’t see us anymore. Though we did get what we wanted – stars.

This trip turned out to be exactly what we needed it to be – a lovely little break. We then a week off to recover from all the socialising.

Here’s my takeaway though, for what it’s worth.

You never know who you will meet on a train. I met someone who had briefly been a paramedic before deciding it wasn’t for them after almost being stabbed. And you know what, I admire that, knowing when something isn’t for you is a strength and a thing that seems to be missing more and more in society these days.

There were a couple of survivors. They had background of domestic violence from a time it was barely acknowledged, let alone talked about, but here they were thriving, living their best lives.

There was a lady who had an Orient Express dream (I can absolutely identify with that one) complete with the dressing up part of it (which I was grateful wasn’t a thing because I am more suited to dressing for comfort, and you can’t take very much luggage with you). She didn’t think she’d get there so used this trip as a substitute. When we got to Rawlinna, she decided to dress right up to give herself the closest thing to that experience she could. No one laughed, not that I think she would have cared, this was her experience, and she got to own it, like we all should for things like that that matter to us.

I had my photo taken by a professional photographer – who wanted to take a candid of me writing that I could use, because it seemed like a real moment for me, he said. As much as I am reluctant to be in photos for the most part I said yes.

There was also the couple who embraced the story I was writing and joked and commented, but they also had wonderful stories and anecdotes and the loveliest of personalities. For some reason I felt an unexpected kinship with her, and though I won’t ever get to figure out what that quite was, it was special in that moment.

One day I was wearing an Alcatraz Psycho Ward shirt, and it resulted in us getting some wonderful advice about traveling to San Francisco, should we ever get there, and it started a fascinating conversation about my actual job – people really do have strange ideas about prisons and prison officers.

Sometimes it is worth it to go a little out of your comfort zone. Remember that other people have stories, and we used to get our advice and recommendations from people, not anonymous comments online. Communication was more about personal connections, and it is good to remember that.

All in all, it was a fabulous trip. Plenty of rest, relaxation and conversation. Would I go on another train trip – absolutely if I can ever afford it. Would I recommend it to others? I believe I would yes. Sure, it is wildly expensive or is to someone like me, but you get out of these experiences just what you want to. So, for the right people it will be a wonderful time.

Thank you Journey Beyond, your amazing staff and all the wonderful people I had the pleasure of talking to.