On the Indian Pacific, crossing the Nullarbor Plain

Halfway through day three – our second full day on the train crossing the Australian continent from east to west – we all begin to go a little stir-crazy.  Muesli bars, apples, and cheddar cheese no longer fill me, or maybe they just don’t satisfy me.  Silke wonders if she should “just go take a coffee.”  I have just returned from the lounge car with a coffee, and recommend the idea.

“But it is bumpy, you said.”

“It’s a good walk,” I reply.  “And it is better air-conditioned.”  Taste and comfort are all relative around here.  I give her my wrist bracelet for entry into the lounge car, and off she goes.

Axelle, the French journalist, is following one of the porters around with her microphone, asking questions.  The French boy who likes to dance down the aisles is playing cards in the café with the dread-headed Belgian girl.  The rest of my cabinmates are in various stages of rest, sleep, or reading.  Some, at this point, just stare out the window, but that may be what is leading to this madness: it has been rust colored ground, low blue-grey shrubs, and an occasional hearty green plant, all day and for as long and far as the eye can see.

This morning, I found it beautiful in the dawn light.  After 30 hours yesterday between Sydney and Adelaide (via Melbourne), waking up this morning to new terrain was a pleasant surprise.  Now, in what could be our tenth, or maybe our twelfth hour (the time change has confused me), I am jonesing for something to do that is not what I’ve already done.

The problem is, on a train one has limited options.  I’ve taken a shower.  I’ve written a bit about hiking in the Blue Mountains.  I’ve eaten one of every type of snack I have with me, except the ramen noodles.  I’ve finished Songlines.  And now, I’ve just finished the second of the Hunger Games books.  I have Siddhartha, but I can’t really stomach the idea of getting into Siddhartha right now.

It is 3:30pm, and having already had the luxurious 20 minute stop in Cook (permanent population: 4), I now look forward to taking some air and a platform yoga break in Kalgoorlie, arrival time still unknown.  I am saving my cup of ramen soup as a special treat for sometime after the sun goes down.

Look, at the end of it, I’ll fully appreciate it.  I even do now.  But the Nullarbor is, well, it is as its name suggests: without trees.  And to really emphasize the expanse, it includes the longest straight stretch of railway track in the world – 478 kilometers, uninterrupted.

In the meantime, I thought I might write down a couple things I know I would have found useful before beginning the Indian-Pacific ride from Sydney to Perth, and perhaps dispel a few myths from the fear-mongers on the Thorn Tree.

1. Your train crew matters!  The more they like you, the more comfortable you’ll be.  So have a nice conversation with them in all that time before boarding, when they’re just hanging out on the platform waiting to talk to people.  Don’t ask them cranky questions, pointed questions, or anything that makes them do extra work or say “no.”  In fact, start your entire conversation with, “Is it okay to hang out here with you for a few minutes?”  Then say nice things, like that you’re looking forward to the trip, or that you’re a little nervous.  Ask them questions – they’re probably halfway through their own travel stint (the Great Southern crews do roundtrips out of Adelaide, so if you’re boarding at Sydney or Perth, keep in mind they’ve already been at it for at least a day, maybe two or three).  Commiserate with them: they’re having the same crappy sleep as you, only they have to work in between.  Our first train crew rocked: they were smart asses, exhausted, annoyed by the delay, and didn’t really care about counting pennies when it came to coffees, water, the lounge car passes, whatever.

2. You can bring on a lot more than they say you can.  The regulations for Red Service say you can check two 20kg bags, and bring on one 5kg bag, but it seems like most people in the red seats board either with their frame backpacks or small suitcases, the size of carry-on.  Try to board with yours – unless the train is packed, it’s unlikely they’ll say no.  I spent an hour commiserating about what to fit into my little daypack, checked my frame pack, and then noticed everyone boarding with frame packs.  I wanted mine back!  I headed over to my new porter friend I’d been chatting up outside the train and said, “I’ve got this small bag I checked and I really wish I had it.  It’s not too big – it would totally fit in the overhead rack.  Do you know if I can get it back?”  After the train took off, he came and got me and walked me back to the luggage car to retrieve my bags.

3. There are outlets on the train but (obviously) you’ll need an adapter to Australian plugs.  There are outlets in every train car and in the lounge car.

4. The lounge car doesn’t fill up, and frankly, the red seats are comfier than the lounge seats anyway.  But if you get your wrist bracelet early, or tell them you’re buying for Sydney to Adelaide then keep it for the whole trip, you’ll get more bang for your buck.  Again, the price of the wristband seems directly proportional to how cool your cabin crew is and how little sleep they’ve gotten.

5. You can bring more food on the train than they let on via the website.  Stock up on yogurt, muesli bars, apples, other long-lasting fruit, crackers and hard cheeses.  (Technically, you have to throw out any whole fruits upon entering South Australia, but no one seemed to actually patrol this.)  When selecting food, take things with fiber and probiotics – your tummy will thank you after sitting for three days straight.

6. You can’t bring your own liquor on the train, and they seem fairly adamant about that.  Something to do with licensing laws.

7. You can buy some sleeping “aids” over the counter at Australian pharmacies.  Just tell the pharmacist you’re going on the three day train ride across the continent and she’ll advise.  I got myself some Restavit and shared liberally with my cabin mates and even the porter (another way to win points).

8. Take a blanket, a sleeping mask and ear plugs.  You’ll thank me.

9. Whatever the fear-mongers on Thorn Tree might say, you totally have time to take a cab from the Adelaide train station to the Cole’s supermarket in the center of the city – it’s a seven minute ride and it only costs $10 each way.  And it is well worth it if you’ve been relegated to the red service café food!  At Cole’s, you can get tasty roast chicken, stuffed grape leaves, sandwich meat, cheese, fruit, whatever it is you’ve been longing for and realized you forgot.  The best way to do the cab trip is to find one or two other people also in desperate need of fresh food and share the cab.  In South Australia, cabs can’t double charge for two passengers.  The train usually stops in Adelaide for at least two hours, and you’ll be happy to be somewhere other than at the train station or inside a bus on one of the pre-arranged tours.  One word of caution: whatever you think you’re capable of, you can’t walk to the supermarket and back.  It is waaaay farther by foot than it at first seems, and besides, do you really want to chance missing the once-weekly train to Perth, especially when all your bags are on it and you’re not?

10. There are filtered cold water spouts in each car, but the things that look like they should be hot water spouts are really just lukewarm water spouts.  Be prepared to either go without your ramen or pay a dollar for a cup of hot water from the kitchen.  (You could chance the shower or bathroom tap, but the porters tell me it’s not filtered and not advisable.)

11. The showers are quite nice.  Take a couple sets of fresh clothes in a big Ziploc bag; by the third day, you start to feel a little irreparably grungy and you’ll be glad you did.

12. Get off the train at every stop possible.  Do yoga, go for a walk, just move!

Happy travels!