We were going on a train journey of 3,000 km from Darwin to Adelaide in South Australia. The Ghan is one of the world’s great passenger trains. Started in 1929 as a narrow gauge from Adelaide to Alice Springs it was finally extended, as a standard gauge track, to Darwin in 2004. For some odd reason, the track does not quite reach Darwin but stops about 10 km short. To join the train, we had to get up exceedingly early in the morning and assemble in a hotel lobby to board a coach.
The coach delivered us to the station where we checked in and were then served breakfast on the platform. Around 9am the train arrived. 28 cars pulled by two dark red locomotives. My first impression was that it could do with a bit of a wash. The cars were built in the 70s. They are glorious, if slightly dated, stainless steel carriages. The two engines at the front were thunderously loud and caked in diesel soot. We took a small step back in time and were shown to our cabin.
The room was small but adequate. A bench seat turned into two bunks at night. There was a small toilet and shower. The type where you could, if you wanted, sit on the toilet while you were having a shower. The cabin was comfortable enough considering that we did not have to spend very much time in there. We sat there for an hour as the train set off and the countryside began to roll past us. A possibly familiar looking waterfall in Litchfield Park flashed past us and then we off into the unknown.
Lunch was served in the dining car. We had to wait ten minutes before we could be seated. It was cosy. I ended trying to eat with my elbows pinned to my chest. Small trees and endless grassland rolled past. I struggled to eat soup with motionless arms, using just wrist action and a spoon. We chatted with the other couple at the table. “Where are you from?”. “Where are you going?”. The usual stuff. I kept hoping to see a kangaroo. The main course was washed down with a glass of white wine. Even a bird would have been nice but all I spotted was a short, barbed wire fence.
Not long after lunch we arrived at the town of Katherine. Population 10,000. 300 km south of Darwin. Farming country. Many cattle and many mango trees. Mining used to be important but less so now. Tourism is significant. We were loaded onto a coach along with some thirty other people and taken to a cave.
Diane and I like caves. We have visited many. We chose a cave trip because it seemed fun and it would be cool. In the event, it was fun but far from cool. First, we were given a little history of the cave in a small visitor centre. Then we were warned of the bats, snakes and spiders that inhabit the cave. Then we were warned of narrow parts and questioned about claustrophobia. Finally, we got to walk the kilometre or so to the cave entrance.
The cave was quite easy. It was fitted with walkways, handrails and electric lighting. Inside was quite pretty with stalactites, stalagmites and various calcite flowstones. It was mucky. The cave floods during the wet season leaving mud on all the walls and discolouring all the formations.
A few minutes in, I spotted my first deadly spider. Turned out to be a cave cricket. Totally innocuous. Not sure if I was disappointed or relieved. However, there was something strange. The further we got into the cave, the hotter it was becoming. Usually, even in the tropics, caves are cooler inside. The explanation was a hot spring. There was volcanically heated water under the cave. It raised the temperature of the terminal sump to 38 °C or so. As we moved forward the air became warmer and more humid. By the time we finally turned around it was quite unpleasantly warm. On the way out we spotted the discarded skin of a snake. The carnivorous ghost bats and brown tree snakes remained hidden. Or possibly absent. Just before we finally left the visitor centre, I discovered another deadly Australian spider in the toilets. Later research revealed that the Golden Silk Orb-Weaver Spider is generally regarded as harmless to humans.
Back at the train, we settled in for the evening. Dinner was a pleasant affair. The table was no bigger but the food was good and the wine plentiful. While we were eating, someone converted our cabin from a bench seat to two bunks. It had been an early start and a long day so we turned in shortly after dinner. I took the top bunk. Rocked by the motion of the train and soothed by the clicking of wheels on tracks, I quickly fell asleep. Diane unfortunately was jolted by the irregular lurching of the carriage and disturbed by the clanking, rattling and thumping sounds of steel wheels on steel tracks.
In the morning, just after breakfast, we arrived at Alice Springs. I was relaxed and well rested. Diane less so. In fact she was tired, grumpy and had a headache. Here we left the train. Alice Springs was the end of phase one of the trip. From here we would travel, by truck, into the outback. A week later we would be back to rejoin the train. In the meantime, we were destined for the harsh bushland of central Australia. First, however, we had lunch in the community arts centre. Lettuce leaves and falafel. We were starting to look forward to it now. During lunch we were introduced to our tour guide, Andy, and to each other. 26 tourists sharing a truck with a coach conversion, for a week.
After lunch, everyone had and hour or so to wander the art gallery. I tried. I really did. But at my core I think I am lacking the genes needed to understand and appreciate art. I wandered around getting increasingly bored and eventually ended up photographing birds in the car park. Art gallery done, we had a short drive around to take in the Alice Springs area. This suited me much better and I got to take some more photographs. That was it for the day. We were taken to our hotel for the next two nights. Diane was greatly appreciative of the quiet, stationary bed.
