This post was originally published in 2019. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

For some reason I thought 2018 had been more sedentary than it was; I couldn’t possibly have visited six countries – including six different locations in one of the countries and two in another, in a sense visiting over 11 different places.

Thank goodness I do these annual summaries of where I’ve been; I’d be lost (literally!) without them!

Please enjoy this summary of the places I visited in 2018 along with the adventures (and mis-adventures!) I got up to. Previous annual summaries can be found at the end of this article.

2018 in Summary

14 planes, two ferries, and countless buses and taxis shuttled me between six different countries in 2018. While none of the countries were new to me on the whole, I discovered some new haunts. The biggest surprise of the year (a surprise to me as much as anybody else) was that I set up a home base in my home town of Toronto.

And still, I traveled over 51,148 kilometers (31,782 miles), which puts 2018 in 4^th place for biggest distances traveled in the last 12 years, while remaining on the lower end of country counts for me. (Good thing I don’t actually care about ticking off countries for the sake of ticking them off)!

Here’s how 2018 rolled:

JANUARY: Chiang Mai (Thailand)

I rang in the new year in my cozy apartment in Chiang Mai Thailand where I had been since late November 2017.

While it was my second visit to Chiang Mai (the first being in 2008), it was almost unrecognizable from my previous visit. This was due in part to my staying in another part of town which had (since 2008) blossomed into “the digital nomad centre of the universe”. During my first visit, the term “digital nomad” hadn’t even yet been coined.

Chiang Mai, 10 Years Later: The Impossible Search

How to Find an Apartment in Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai’s Nimman: The Unapologetic Bubble

FEBRUARY: Hoi An (Vietnam)

My first trip to Vietnam was in 2011 as the final stage of completing the Ultimate Train Challenge which was a crazy mission involving 30 days of trains from Lisbon to Saigon. I fell in love with the food and the people, and vowed to return.

So in 2018, inspired by some verbal and written accounts of Hoi An’s beauty and friendliness towards digital nomads, the hop/skip/jump was made from Thailand.

In the areas of food and friendliness, I wasn’t disappointed with my return visit. Despite my complete inability to communicate with the locals, I felt an uncommonly friendly vibe and enjoyed miming with a few of the “market ladies” from whom I regularly bought my produce.

February 2018 also coincided with the Vietnamese New Year, which was a mixed blessing. The upshot was an invitation from my landlord to a family feast that was one of those “victories” for travelers (well at least, for me) in participating in an inherently local festivity. While the evening required extensive use of Google Translate (one of my go-to smartphone apps), it was one where I felt an almost unprecedented level of warmth and welcome from a local family.

The bad news for the month was the weather, which involved solid cloud cover and periodic rain for the entire month. I didn’t realize how badly the lack of sunshine was affecting me until one day it came out and my disposition changed entirely. Unfortunately by that point, I’d already made onward travel plans since I’d lost the will to live.

6 Weeks in Hoi An, Vietnam

Expat Life in Hoi An

MARCH: Koh Phangan (Thailand)

Since my visit to India in late 2017, I had been wrestling with a host of physical and emotional challenges that, by this time, had bled me dry. So visiting the southern Thai island of Koh Phangan was in part a sun-seeking experience, and in part a chance to participate in an intensive detox retreat which I hoped would be a way to hit “reset” on my body (and spirit) and clear it of the variety of ailments it was suffering from.

All I can say is I hope to return to Koh Phangan one day and not do a detox retreat. While I’m sure it was beneficial on the whole, it was a slugfest the entire way, and an exercise in irony and deprivation on this idyllic (even hedonistic) island.

All Life is Suffering: A Month in Koh Phangan, Thailand – incidentally one of my favourite and more entertaining pieces of writing

APRIL: Melbourne (Australia)

This detour Down Under may come as a surprise to some readers, as I never wrote about it. It was “part two” in my attempt to recover from the physical and emotional effects of what I (by this time) realized was a severe case of burnout.

Long-time readers will know that I spent 1.5 years living outside of Melbourne Australia back in 2008/09, and in that time I criss-crossed the country a few times (by campervan and then by train), survived their worst-ever natural disaster, had my first breakup on the road, and other adventures.

During that first stint I befriended a couple with whom I stayed in touch over the years, and who (knowing of my burnout) invited me to stay with them as a personalized healing retreat of sorts.

While I didn’t know this couple very well, the invitation was serendipitous, and I immediately booked a ticket. It was one of the best decisions I made, as their loving care and regular healing treatments in their clinic was instrumental – if not life-changing – for me.

It gave me the rest I sorely needed after almost 10 months of bouncing around just as many Asian countries, recovery from a variety of physical ailments, and strength to start pursuing some business and personal projects over the course of the rest of the year.

Somewhere in all this recovery, I started reflecting on what I’d learned in the last 12 years of travel. Here it is: one lesson for each year on the road: 12 Truths About Travel – and Life

MAY: NYC (USA), Toronto (Canada), London (England)

My frequent flyer mile prowess allowed me to fly from Melbourne to New York in business class for a grand total of about $600. NYC was a glorified layover enroute to my hometown of Toronto, where I planned to spend the summer.

But not before a bit more traipsing! After dropping my checked luggage in Toronto, I packed a wee bag and hopped on a flight to London for a couple of weeks of staying with some friends who had just bought a lovely house.

It rained. A lot.

JUNE: Hollywood FL (USA), Toronto (Canada)

I’m no stranger to Hollywood (in South Florida), where a dear friend of mine lives and where I have a home base of sorts. So while it’s certainly out-of-the-way between London and Toronto, I detoured anyway to visit for a couple of weeks.

JULY-OCTOBER: Toronto (Canada)

I love summers in Toronto, and the summer of 2018 was a glorious one by all accounts. Even locals (who are renowned for their weather-driven running commentary) had little to gripe about.

What was surprising was how a simple plan to spend a couple of months there evolved into getting an apartment and setting up a home base. While I never thought I would live in Toronto again, it clicked for me on a variety of levels, and I’m pleased to have made the decision.

My Epic Search for a Home Base

NOVEMBER: San Diego, Desert Hot Springs, LA, Palmdale CA (USA)

While I would have liked more time to enjoy my new place in Toronto, I have this thing about winter: I don’t do it. I grew up with it, and I loathe it. I spent the last 12 years hemisphere-hopping to avoid it, and my cozy apartment wasn’t about to sway me from maintaining my record.

So, coincidentally (or not), on the day the temperatures plummeted and it started to snow in Toronto in early November, I boarded a plane for San Diego to visit a friend. We did a wee road trip to Desert Hot Springs and Joshua Tree – which was my first taste of the American desert.

From San Diego, I bussed up to Palmdale (near LA) to visit with my boyfriend’s family; included was a little trip into LA to film a video and do a bit of sightseeing.

DECEMBER: Hollywood FL (USA) (again)

Can’t see the picture? Click here to watch this video on YouTube.

One of the reasons why Hollywood has been a frequently-visited base for me over the years is because of its proximity to Central and South America where I’ve spent the majority my time since 2014. (Well, that, and my friend there is super-cool and I have my own room at her house).

So while my visit to Hollywood in June was a detour between London and Toronto, my visit in December was perfectly enroute to Guatemala (!), where I’ll be spending the first quarter of 2019.

Summary Notes: Progress! 

In the summary of my 2017 annual travel report, I wrote the following:

It’s like every single aspect of my life has been thrown up in the air (lifestyle, location, health, relationships, career, etc), and I’m watching all the pieces float around and am waiting to see where they land. It’s simultaneously exciting and agonizing. 

If 2017 was my unraveling, then 2018 was my year for putting everything back together again (well, with a bit more unraveling for good measure in the first quarter or so of the year – as was evidenced in Koh Phangan).

In addition to my personal recovery, you’ll read soon in my annual income report for 2018 that my online business also underwent a significant overhaul and recovery process.

It was a year for many big changes, both personal and professional, not the least of which was setting up a new home base in my home town. After a dozen years of exploring expat life in a many different places, I’m enjoying the close proximity of family and friends when I’m in town (which, in the coming years, I expect will be a little over half of each year).

I own a couch now! And desk, and a bed, and a tv. And I have Canadian health care again! Most importantly, I have a place to return to after every trip, to unpack, unwind, and assimilate my experiences. Already, my travels feel lighter – literally and figuratively.

Looking into my magic crystal ball, I would say that 2019 will be a year for more transitions and transformations. I’m just not sure how yet. Let’s see! It’s far from the end of the trail for me…..rather, it’s the start of a new one.

Prior Travel Summaries

My First Four Years of Full-Time Travel (2007-2010, including Canada, Hawaii, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Australia, USA, Mexico, New Zealand, Spain, Germany, France, England, Scotland, Ireland, Nepal)

What I did in 2011 (13 countries, 73,000 kms, including New Zealand, Canada, USA, Sweden, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Ukraine, Russia, China, Vietnam, Grenada)

What I did in 2012 (8 countries and 20,000 miles, including Grenada, St. Martin, BVIs, USA, Switzerland, France, England, Canada)

What I did in 2013 (12 countries and 29,000 miles, including Grenada, USA, Canada, England, Scotland, Holland, Norway, Denmark, Germany, Ukraine, France, Panama)

What I did in 2014 (7 countries and 34,000 miles, including Panama, USA, Canada, Peru, Spain, Gibraltar, Italy)

What I did in 2015 (6 countries and 35,000 miles, including Peru, Colombia, USA, Costa Rica, Canada, Bolivia)

What I did in 2016 (5 countries and 30,000 miles, including Peru, USA, Canada, Ireland, and Ecuador)

What I did in 2017 (10 countries and 29,000 miles, including USA, Ecuador, Canada, Japan, Indonesia, Hong Kong, Macau, Sri Lanka, India, and Thailand)

This post 2018: 6 Countries, 32k Miles, And Some BIG Changes appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content.

When I started this vlog, it was at the suggestion of a reader who said I should start a “storytelling podcast”. But for many of the first half a dozen or so episodes, I got sidetracked by all kinds of “useful” topics like What to Pack for Full-Time Travel, answering reader questions about Facing Hardship While Traveling, tips for Traveling Alone as a Woman, and more.

So this time, I wanted to just tell you a story. It’s part comedy, part horror flick, and part metaphysical drama. It’s the story of the huntsman in my car.

Now, a huntsman is a spider in Australia – one of the few non-venomous creatures there (which is good), but also one of the ugliest (which is bad). I was scared of going to Australia altogether for many years solely due to a friend’s story of a huntsman encounter, so when I eventually gathered up the courage to go, I was wary.

I came to actually like these grotesque creatures during my year and change living in Australia…..until…..well……I won’t spoil the story. Watch it below!

There’s a Huntsman in My Car (VLOG Ep. 7)

Click here to watch it on YouTube.

This post There’s a Huntsman in my Car! (VLOG Ep. 7) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

You may not end up in Guinness for it, but you’re sure to have a memorable experience.

Links to posts about each of these experience – as well as videos! – are included. Enjoy!  

World’s Most Dangerous Beach

We don’t normally think of beaches as being dangerous, but Sunset Beach in St Martin in the Caribbean will set your heart aflutter. It’s directly at the end of the island’s airport strip, and you can watch planes come in on top of you. Thrill seekers like to hold on to the fence at the end of the runway and be mangled by the prop blast as jets land mere meters away. (I settled for taking pictures from a mildly respectful distance).

The Most Dangerous Beach in the World

World’s Highest (Commercial) Skydive

As a skydiver with almost 300 jumps (from a life that seems lifetimes away now), I dropped my license when I started traveling full-time. But when I was in New Zealand, I was treated to a tandem jump that allowed me to experience the world’s highest commercial skydive, exiting the plane at 15,000 feet.

World’s Highest (Commercial) Fixed Line Abseil (Rappel)

This was an absolute highlight of all my travels. In Waitomo New Zealand, this full day event involved a 100 meter abseil (rappel) into a cave, followed by five hours of venturing through this extensive watery cave system. In our wetsuits, we squeezed, swam, jumped, and shimmied through this cave, and hung out with Waitomo’s famous glow worms (which have their own funny story).

Abseiling, Caving, and Spotting Glow Worms in New Zealand

World’s Highest (Commercially) Rafted Waterfall

New Zealand is home to all kinds of world’s [whatevers], and I experienced a lot of them whilst filming a tv show there in 2010. Even after a day of sledging (which is like white-water rafting on a glorified boogie board), I was shaking in my wetsuit in anticipation of the 7 meter (23 foot) drop that flips a good percentage of rafts. Ironically we survived the drop, and then almost sank the raft whilst caught in a rapid that is apparently more dangerous than the waterfall itself.

World’s Longest Train Ride

When I did the Ultimate Train Challenge in 2011 (30 days from Lisbon to Saigon, all by train), it included a solid week on the Trans-Manchurian between Moscow and Beijing. It’s better known as the Trans-Siberian, the difference being the particular route the train takes. Either way, it’s long.

A Week on the Trans-Manchurian Railway

World’s Fastest Train

Hot on the heels of the world’s longest train ride, I embarked on the world’s fastest train from Beijing to Shanghai. Watching the world whizz by at speeds close to what planes manage was an experience. And with stations on either side that were more like airports than train stations, at times I had to wonder if I was actually flying.

13 Random Experiences on Asian Trains

World’s Longest Wall/Biggest Ancient Architecture

You got it – this is the Great Wall of China. I’ve had the good fortune to have been there not once – but twice.

Beijing – Then and Now

World’s Shortest Ferry Ride

If you fly into Toronto’s Island Airport (officially known as Toronto City Centre Airport), a ferry will deliver you to the “mainland” downtown core of Toronto. It’s a whopping 120 meters (400 feet), and the ferry itself is about a third of the size of passage it runs.

World’s Most Isolated Major City

There are a few contenders for the world’s most isolated/remote major cities (depending on your criteria such as by population size or accessibility), including Auckland New Zealand, Honolulu Hawaii, and Iquitos Peru. Regardless of the measuring stick you use, I can say I’ve been to all of them.

But Perth Australia is most eager to wear this banner, and it’s an isolated city indeed. Bonus: it also boasts the largest inner city park in the world.

Perth in 24 Hours

World’s Most Dangerous Airport

When I was filming a television show in Nepal in 2010, we flew from Kathmandu to Lukla, which is the gateway to Everest and the Himalayas for trekkers. Tenzing Hilary Airport earns its moniker as the world’s most dangerous airport due to the short runway with absolutely no margin for error. The runway is on an incline so planes coming in can stop before hitting the mountain behind it, and so planes taking off can gather sufficient speed before the runway drops off into a valley of nothingness.

The other danger factor at this airport is the weather, which comes in out of nowhere. It took us two days of waiting at Kathmandu airport for enough clear sky to allow us to fly in, and we were stuck there for three days longer than scheduled waiting for the clouds to clear so we could take off. The only other way out would have been to hike for 2 days to the nearest city where we could catch ground transportation back to Kathmandu.

World’s Most Expensive City

Oslo Norway takes this prize, and spectacularly so. I went to a middle-of-the-road thai restaurant for lunch and paid almost $50 for a green curry and a glass of wine. This was pretty average for my meals in Oslo. Now, if you live in Oslo and earn money in the local currency, you can get by pretty well. But with Norway’s strong currency, visiting there with foreign currency in your pocket will result in your pockets being empty pretty quickly.

Travel Lessons and Surprises: Oslo

World’s Top City for Cyclists AND World’s Happiest City

Again there are a few contenders for this title (not the least of which is Amsterdam), but the prize – for both bike friendly city and happiest city – goes to Copenhagen Denmark. I don’t know that bicycling and happiness are related, but there you go.

Copenhagen: A Modern-Day Fairy Tale

Largest Beer-Producing Area in the World

If you think Germany takes this cake, think again. When I was in Boulder Colorado, I learned that it’s part of the largest beer-producing triangle in the world, with micro-breweries at every turn. Boulder tops a bunch of other lists (in America) mostly in the realm of being active, bike-friendly, dog-friendly, rich, and skinny. Guess you have to burn off the beer somehow, and with the Rocky Mountains at your doorstep it’s not too difficult.

A Curious Bubble in Boulder, Colorado

World’s Largest Techno Party

The annual Street Parade in Zurich Switzerland is actually officially billed as a political demonstration (dating back to its humble beginnings in 1992 as a demonstration for peace, love, and tolerance. Back then there were 1,000 attendees; now it sees about a million attendees, hitting the streets to party, show off their costumes, and get their groove on.

The World’s Largest Techno Party: Street Parade in Zurich

World’s Highest Bungee Jump

The world’s highest bungee jump is currently the Macau Tower at 233 metres. However in 2005 when I was in the Western Cape of South Africa, I took a leap (a few, actually) off Bloukrans Bridge which was at the time the world’s highest bungee jump at 216 metres. So considering this is a list of my own world [whatevers], I think it still counts. So there. Bite me, Macau.

World’s Highest Navigable Lake

Lake Titicaca (bordered by Bolivia and Peru) is the largest lake in South America, and the highest navigable lake in the world. I spent a few days on Isla del Sol, and even though I live at an incredibly high altitude in Peru, I marvelled at just how close to the sun this island really was.

Visiting Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca, in Bolivia

World’s Longest Standing Protest

Since 1972, a small fire has been burning in front of Australia’s parliament building. Along with the small collection of derelict looking tents off to the side housing anywhere from a few to a few hundred Australian Aboriginals who tend to the fire, this is the world’s longest standing protest. Stumbling on to this with a friend while walking around Canberra one afternoon led to one of the most enlightening days I’ve had in all my travels.

The Australian Aboriginal Tent Embassy

World’s Worst Smelling Food

This prize goes to Surstromming, a canned fermented fish that is popular in Sweden. It’s a love-it-or-hate-it kind of food, that actually doesn’t taste nearly as repulsive as it smells. (There. I’m sure you want to try it now, don’t you)?

Northern Swedish Delicacies, Including Surstromming

Do you have any World’s fastest, highest, longest, smallest, deepest, craziest WHATEVERs in your travel repertoire?

This post 18 of the World’s Fastest, Highest, Longest (etc) Things to Do appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2011. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content.
I received a complimentary pass from Great Southern Rail for this journey.

Just Landed Here? Check out the previous instalments to this EPIC series about the Indian Pacific Train:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five

DAY SEVEN

A breakfast of baked goods is delivered to my cabin at 6:10am, since there isn’t enough time before our arrival in Adelaide for a full breakfast to be served. Quite frankly at 6:10am, even the baked goods in front of me aren’t doing much for my non-existent appetite.

Whistle Stop: Adelaide

Having already been to Adelaide a few times before, and seeing the early hour of our stop, I take advantage of the time I have off the train to walk into town for exercise, and camp out at a McDonalds for free WiFi.

Back On Board

Once again, the crew changes over, since all of Great Southern Rail’s train crews are based in Adelaide. I’ve shared the last five days with this crew, so it feels odd to be saying goodbye to them. But because I’ve been on as many Aussie trains as I have, I recognize the hospitality manager from my journey on The Overland the month prior.

There are also quite a few extra cars added to the train in Adelaide. This is in preparation for the annual Indian Pacific Outback Christmas journey, which begins in Sydney and will carry famous Australian musicians and entertainers across the country. In the spirit of Christmas, these performers give free concerts to remote communities located along the rail line between Sydney and Perth, and this is the 10^th year for the tradition.

This year the Indian Pacific Outback Christmas trip is even more special, as the Indian Pacific Train is celebrating its 40^th anniversary. In fact, the train is now so long in preparation for the onslaught of passengers boarding in Sydney, that it’s too long for some station platforms, and subsequent whistle stops are done in stages.

“Mind if I join you for lunch?” I ask a table of three. With tables seating four on the train (and rarely a party of four traveling), passengers are expected to mingle for meals. It’s one of the highlights of traveling in Gold class for me, since it’s a chance to converse with so many diverse people over a nice meal.

“No,” comes the surly response of the elderly lady at my elbow. Although she could mean “No, I don’t mind”, I’m distinctly left with the impression that I’m not welcome at the table.

Shot down, I move to another table, but it turns out I can’t sit there either since their empty seat is waiting on somebody. With all the eyes of the small dining car on me as I try to find a table that I’m welcome to join, I’m feeling a little ostracized and isolated. But as this is an isolated dining car incident, I try not to pay it much heed.

I end up eating a lackluster lunch with a retired couple with whom I can’t seem to find any common ground. The train was very bumpy last night, and with our early arrival in Adelaide this morning, I think everybody is under-slept and a little out of sorts.

Throughout this trip, I’ve been quite industrious in getting lots of writing accomplished. But today, I feel brain-dead, and instead I pass the afternoon listening to music and staring out the window. It’s bliss.

Whistle Stop: Broken Hill

For the first time in my experience with Great Southern Rail’s long-distance trips, we are late arriving into Broken Hill. Being late isn’t actually as surprising as how often we’ve been on time. I’ve come to expect delays with long-distance trains (at least in North America, where train travel isn’t down to a fine art as it is in Europe). So for this to be the first delay – and at that only by an hour – is actually quite impressive.

Given my brain-dead state, our abbreviated stopping time, and my having visited Broken Hill a few times already, I do nothing more with this whistle stop than go for a brisk sunset walk.

Back On Board

I don’t know if it’s the fatigue from a shoddy night’s sleep, or if I’ve spent too much time on trains, but my mood is swinging. My lunch experience put me off being social, so I hide out in my cabin, reading and snoozing until dinner.

When I arrive at the dining car for my last dinner on the Indian Pacific, I’ve already singled out my dinner companions; a very young pair of guys who appear to be brothers. I’ve seen them on the train since Perth, but we’ve not had a chance to chat, and I’m curious what their story is.

I learn that they are indeed brothers, one of whom just graduated high school (the other of whom is 24 years old). They’ve both saved up their money for this trip which is a graduation celebration. I’m impressed that they’ve managed to save up the money for a trip like this, in Gold class no less. They’re already talking about their next trip together – which will be on The Ghan. Despite their awkward shyness, I’m glad I get a chance to eat with them.

DAY EIGHT

As much as I enjoy sleeping on trains, I must admit when I awake that I’m really looking forward to sleeping in a bed that’s not in motion.

Initially, sleeping on trains (in beds) was exciting and different, and indicative of a big trip (which implies big adventure in my books). My first taste of getting horizontal on a train was when I traveled from Toronto west across Canada in 2007. The canter of the train and perpetual motion was like a lullaby, and as far as I’m concerned there’s (still) nothing like waking up in the morning and simply lying in bed watching the world roll by outside the window while consciousness slowly sets in.

But now, after a solid week on trains (with a one night respite in Perth), I’m coming to understand the conversations I’ve had with train employees who speak of needing a full day of sleep to recover from many trips. It has much less to do with their working hours (my initial hypothesis), and much more to do with simply not sleeping well on trains. For a few days, it’s barely noticeable. As a lifestyle though, I would struggle.

I eat breakfast with Richard and Jack again; they’re looking a little worse-for-wear as well. We discuss the layout of various cabins, and where (and how) the employees sleep.

“How do you sleep?” Richard asks the woman serving us breakfast. He is actually referring to the orientation of the beds in the employee quarters, but his question is understandably mis-interpreted.

“Honey,” she begins, “If you don’t sleep, we don’t sleep either,” she says with all the fatigue of somebody who hasn’t slept. Her answer also comes quickly (and wearily) enough that it’s apparent she gets asked this all the time. “A lot of it has to do with the tracks. If it’s a bumpy ride, nobody sleeps well. Stuff vibrates in the cabins, and we all have bits on us that wobble. Each of us has our tricks, but there’s no one solution. I like to sleep on my tummy.”

This is our last meal on the train, and we are chugging through the Blue Mountains outside of Sydney. I am particularly excited for this morning, as I was told on The Ghan by an employee that one of his favourite routes is the Perth-Sydney route, because waking up to the sun coming up over the Blue Mountains is magic.

Unfortunately, it’s raining! However between raindrops, we admire the layers of fog playing in the hills overlooking the small mountain towns.

The rain is somewhat indicative of our collective mood at the breakfast table too. As much as we are enjoying (and have enjoyed) each other’s company over the last few days, the end is in sight, and it’s the end of a long journey for everybody. We talk about where we’re all going next, we take some pictures, and exchange contact information.

Coming to an End

I’m feeling especially melancholy, since this is the end of not only a journey that is twice the length of what most “normal” people do (since I retraced my steps from Perth back to Sydney), but it’s also my last train journey in Australia. In just over a month, I’ve ridden almost 16,000kms of rail in Australia, including The Ghan (Darwin-Adelaide), The Overland (Adelaide-Melbourne), The Indian Pacific (Sydney-Perth-Sydney), The XPT (Melbourne-Sydney-Melbourne), and various Country Link journeys to and through small towns including Seymour, Canberra, and Aubury.

And I haven’t even come close to seeing it all. There are train journeys up to North Queensland from Sydney, across to various outback towns from the east coast, and Great Southern Rail also runs the Southern Spirit: an exclusive all-inclusive 6 day/5 night trip from Adelaide to Brisbane (through Melbourne).

As I step on to the platform at Central Station in Sydney, I wonder what will be next, and when I’ll again find myself on a train journey of such grandeur. Will it be the Blue Train in South Africa? Or the Trans-Siberian in Russia? The Toy Train to Darjeeling? Or the Via One across Canada (this time east from Toronto)?

I’m not sure which train trip will be my next, but I do know that despite my fatigue, and despite spending eight days solid on a train, I didn’t experience even one fleeting moment of boredom.

So in a way, my mission as set out in the beginning of this series has failed. I’ve tested myself, my endurance, and my patience for long-distance train travel, and I’ve surprised myself in not reaching my wit’s end sooner. Instead, I emerge from the experience with a new handful of friends and contacts, a bevy of stories and anecdotes, dozens (nay, hundreds) of pictures, and a lifetime of memories.

Aah – I love train travel.

This post Taking the Indian Pacific Train Across Australia: PART SIX appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2011. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 
I received a complimentary pass from Great Southern Rail for this journey.

Just landed here? Check out the previous instalments in this series about taking the Indian Pacific:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

DAY SIX

In the other cabins, I’ve slept lengthwise along the train. In this cabin, I’m sleeping widthwise across the train. I wonder if this will adversely affect my sleep, but I find it to be about the same; occasionally restless and occasionally blissful.

This night, however, isn’t so blissful. A constant repetitive noise invades my dreams, taking the form of water sloshing against walls, or somebody washing and clanging dishes, or anything in between.

It’s only when I’m coherent come the morning that I realize the window blinds are making a small racket, clattering between the window panes. (Interestingly later in the day, the train maintenance manager comes by for a chat, and he asks if everything (from temperature to fixtures) has been satisfactory. I mention the blinds in passing, also saying that I’ll just leave them up from here on in to avoid the problem. But that won’t do; while I’m at dinner, he places spacers on the blinds so I won’t be disturbed by them again).

I enjoy breakfast with Sam and Helen (a couple in their early 60’s) from Melbourne. This is Sam’s first time in Western Australia, and he admits to probably being the least-traveled person he knows. “This trip has been eye-opening and mind-expanding,” he says of this journey into the unknown.

The conversation takes a curious turn when Sam says “Are you on Lonely Planet TV?”

I smile. “No. Do I look familiar?” It’s coincidental that I’ve just finished filming a travel tv show pilot episode and am about to shoot a full series; I know he doesn’t know me from tv fame (yet). I simply tend to look familiar to people, to the point where I’m often mistaken for somebody else. So I’m expecting to resemble the host of Lonely Planet TV as a result of this question.

Instead, I get a response that stings a little: “No, it’s not that I’ve seen you on tv. You just seem aggressive and positive like some of the Lonely Planet hosts are.”

I blink and ask Sam to repeat what he just said, which he does.

Aggressive and positive? I’ve never heard those two words juxtapositioned in such a way, and formulated in a sentence that’s not actually intended to be offensive. Yikes! Maybe I was too “aggressive” in asking them if I could join them for breakfast.

This particular meal-time conversation being something of a flop, we continue on to discuss innocuous things like the whistle stops the Indian Pacific train makes. I pass on a few of the facts and trivia I’ve gleaned through my journey so far, and Sam and Helen remark that I know more about Australia than they do! I blush and reply as humbly as possible that it’s a function of my job.

Whistle Stop: Cook

I wonder why I always feel a little strange when the train stops. If I’m looking out of the window, I would swear that we are moving backwards once we’re stationery. You get so used to moving forward all the time that not moving at all feels like moving backwards. It’s quite the trick of the eye (and inner ear).

Unlike the stop in Cook a few days earlier, today the sun is shining and perfect little white clouds are floating across the sky.

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Cook,” comes the announcement from the train manager. “The temperature is a comfortable 19 degrees, and we’ve got nice sunshine with some cloud cover. So in addition to the five people that live here, you’ll get a chance to meet a few million other inhabitants of Cook as well.”

A few million other inhabitants? I wonder…

…no I don’t. Flies. As I get off the train for the quick half-hour stop, I salute Cook with what I’ve dubbed the “Aussie wave”: a constant gesture of waving the space on either side of my face in order to keep the flies out of my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

Cook is an interesting stop when you’re taking the Indian Pacific since it’s one of the world’s most isolated outposts. It’s 1,100km from Adelaide and 1,500km from Perth, and although there are signs of once-formidable habitation, only five people remain here.

In fact, in describing the anticipated stops for the Indian Pacific to some of my Aussie friends, many had no idea where Cook was or why the train would stop there. Besides the point of interest of being such an isolated outpost and something of a ghost town (with a thriving gift shop, of course), it seems to be a stop more for the train than the passengers, as drivers change over and the train is refilled with water.

Back On Board the Indian Pacific

“I love your hair colour!” I say to a South African woman who I’d come to know as Cynthia. Her hair is a vibrant purplish-red, very similar to a hair colour I once donned.

“Thanks! It’s completely natural,” she replies with a winning smile.

“Really? Mine too!” I say of my dark purple base colour with blonde and red streaks throughout.

Cynthia and I share a lovely lunch together, talking about everything you don’t talk about with strangers (especially from South Africa), including politics, religion, race, and faith. It’s refreshing and uplifting conversation, and I see a kindred spirit in Cynthia. We both remark how we’re sure our paths will cross again, and we have enough faith to know that it will happen without our having to force the process.

Indian Pacific’s Double-Duty

As we chug back across this vast expanse of flat, largely uninhabitable land, I’m surprised at the number of signs of civilization interspersed throughout the desert. I’m also interested to learn of the Indian Pacific’s instrumental role in keeping these remote communities going.

“Ladies and gentleman, if you look out the left side of the train, you’ll see we’re passing through the town of Forrest, evidently not named for its abundance of trees,” the train manager announces over the intercom. He goes on to describe this town with a bustling population of two people who maintain the railway and refuel planes that need to land on the narrow paved airstrip. They even have a “bed and breakfast” for people who drop in (often literally) on them.

Towns like Forrest, Rawlinna, and Tarcoola wouldn’t survive well without the Indian Pacific, which not only occasionally drops off and picks up passengers who are enroute to these remote outposts for mining or other jobs, but the Indian Pacific is also responsible for delivering the mail and some supplies to these communities.

Spotting the Wildlife

I mention to the train manager that I’m saddened not to see as much wildlife as I had expected. Not one wild camel has made an appearance for me and it’s not for lack of looking for them.

The train manager explains that usually the wildlife-viewing opportunities aboard the Indian Pacific are terrific, since the train drops moisture on the tracks along the way (grey water from basins and showers are expelled on the tracks). And through arid areas like the outback (especially through the drought that Australia has felt over the last 10 or so years), the train tracks are a great spot for animals to congregate and feed.

But this past winter has seen a record-breaking amount of rain, and the outback is uncharacteristically green. When I hear this I smile, since just about all I can see out the window is brown land, with a slightly green tinge only if I squint at it the right way.

So unfortunately for me (but thankfully for the drought-stricken land which has now been rained upon) there isn’t the abundance of wildlife I had hoped to see. I thank my lucky stars that I’ve already spotted a number of wedge-tailed eagles, few kangaroos, and an emu.

Today though, the closest sign to “wildlife” I see is a large rock at the side of the tracks with the word “GIDAY” spray-painted onto it. Who did this?! There’s no road in sight or sign of human life anywhere. Maybe those elusive camels have developed some extra talents in their years of living at large in the outback.

Disappointing Dinner

Dinner is a less-than-fulfilling experience with three ladies who are all traveling solo. The woman across from me opens the conversation with the endearing observation “You eat like an American.” This comment takes me off-guard, and I learn it is because after I cut my food with my fork and knife, I tend to move my fork from my left hand to my right hand to eat.

I don’t know if this woman intends her observation to be offensive, but she can’t seem to say anything without painting surly overtones onto each word. I make a humble comment about being taught good manners in this form before changing the topic.

But it’s not long before she strikes again: “So how are racial tensions in Canada?” This sets the tone for the rest of the meal. The two women across from me launch into a series of racial tirades that include comments like “The Pakistanis are taking over England! Taking over!” which is said with raised voices, spittle flying across the table, and lips curled. I’m then informed that immigrants to Australia have no business keeping to their own circles and should integrate fully, completely, and immediately upon arrival. Considering both these offending women are immigrants to Australia themselves and identify their original nationalities before their Australian residency, it seems hypocritical.

I gracefully leave the dinner table and the spiralling conversation when the topic turns to “African Americans. They aren’t even from Africa. Why do they need to call themselves that? Because their skin is black?! They’re just Americans!”

Aah….even disappointing dinners are fun. You truly never know who you’ll meet on the train. With not a dull moment yet (which is contrary to my expectations), I’m nearing the end of my eight-day journey on the Indian Pacific. Let’s see what tomorrow brings…

Click Here for Part Six of this epic Train Journey!

This post Taking the Indian Pacific Train Across Australia: PART FIVE appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2011. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content.
I received a complimentary pass from Great Southern Rail for this journey.

If you missed the first three parts of this series, here they are: 

• Part One – Leaving Sydney
• Part Two – Broken Hill
• Part Three – Cook and Kalgoorlie

DAY FOUR

I awake earlier than 6:30am, preferring not to be awake, but consoling myself for being conscious by laying in bed and watching the world go by outside the window for a while. Eventually a fundamental need for coffee rouses me from my window-gazing cocoon.

While I’m fixing up my coffee in the Red Lounge car, I run across Betty: the South African partner to Aussie Bill, our nominated “couple most in love” on the train. We chat about how, despite our generally social natures, we both immensely enjoy just sitting in our cabins and looking out the window, allowing our thoughts to come and go with the scenery.

As more and more passengers emerge from their seats and cabins to congregate in the Red Lounge car for tea and breakfast, there is an air of celebration and camaraderie. This is our last morning together, as we are about to arrive in Perth; the final destination for just about everybody (except me).

Although I had intended on spending some time on my own this morning, I am lured into enthusiastic and interesting conversations, group photos, and various exchanges of contact information to keep in touch. Along with the air of celebration is also the ever-present note of melancholy in not wanting this train trip to end.

Although I’m sad to be parting company with this wonderful group of travelers, I’m also quietly happy that I’m only halfway through my own train journey.

24 Hours in Perth

I’m thrilled to be in Perth (and Western Australia in general), despite my measly 24 hour turn-around time. I race across the platform to meet my long-time writing colleague Amanda, who is my host for the day and who puts me up for the one night in this 11,000km trip that isn’t spent on a train.

As much as I expect this night of sleep to be utter bliss, I am surprised when I’m thrown off by the incredibly stationery bed, and the heat (which after being on a temperature-controlled train for four days is a touch oppressive).

Nevertheless, I have a fabulous 24 hours in Perth, as can be read here.

DAY FIVE

I bid “see ya later” (which is my traditional form of goodbye, since I tend to run into people who I never think I’ll see again all over the place) to Amanda and her family, knowing that we’ll meet again – but not knowing where or how.

As Amanda and I are waiting at the train platform for the call to passengers to board, I spot the carriage attendant who was in charge of my car between Adelaide and Perth. Her face lights up and she runs over and gives me a big hug – much to the surprise of the surrounding passengers, most of whom are just seeing the train for the first time.

Like I said in previous posts, the train crew is instrumental in making a trip on The Ghan or the Indian Pacific memorable, and this warm welcome is a nice touch. Most of the staff onboard all the trains truly seems to love what they do (and if they don’t, then they’re pretty good actors).

Onboard – and Upward

To my surprise and delight, I receive an upgrade to a Gold Twinette cabin, which is even bigger (about twice the size) of the Gold single cabin I enjoyed on The Ghan. It has room for two single beds (bunk-style) which fold out from the wall, an ensuite toilet/basin/shower, and lots of seating when the beds are folded away. In fact, there’s so much room in this cabin, I have two initial thoughts:

1) This cabin is so big, I could do yoga! And in fact, I do. Train-yoga should be a new modality for yoga; it’s an interesting exercise in balance while the train is moving, that’s for sure.

2) I’ve lived in places smaller than this. This, I realize, doesn’t speak much for some of the places I’ve lived in, but then again, as a Professional Hobo, I’m happy to simply have a place large enough for me to open up my bag and lay down for the night. I’m not demanding!

Welcome!

“All Gold passengers with a blue meal-seating card are invited to the Gold Lounge for a welcome reception in five minutes,” an announcement comes across about an hour after we’ve left Perth.

Being in Gold class entitles you to three meals a day served in the dining car, on real plates with real cutlery and real glasses. The meals are generally three courses, and are of excellent quality with something for most diets.

There are two meal-seating times: red, and blue. The early red seating usually involves breakfast around 7:00am, which is reason enough for me to choose a blue seating time. But I also enjoy the later blue meal seating because there’s no rush to leave the dining car after the meal is done, since there isn’t another group of hungry passengers waiting to eat. Some of my most inspired conversations with other passengers take place over a lingering meal in the dining car, often over such a long period that the car has cleared out and we’ve encouraged the staff to go ahead and eat their own meals.

So as a blue-meal-card-carrying-passenger, I enjoy a lovely sparkling wine reception while Marsha, the hospitality manager, sets the scene for our journey from Perth through to Adelaide, where a new crew will take over.

She tells us about the beautiful Avon Valley, which we are chugging through as the reception is taking place. I don’t expect such a hilly landscape of Western Australia, and I curse my camera batteries for being on charge.

Marsha also tells us to be on the lookout for camels during our trek across the Nullarbor desert; there are over 1 million camels in Australia, and none of them are owned! They hail from the days when camels were a viable means of transportation across the outback, but now they run wild. I hope to spot some camels this time going across the Nullarbor, as I didn’t see any enroute to Perth.

Gold Service, and Passengers

With a certain echelon of traveler in Gold class, most of the people are there because they really want to ride the Indian Pacific. Nobody rides the Indian Pacific in Gold class purely as a means of getting from A to B or as a way to save money; they usually ride it because this trip IS the trip, as I discover in the people I meet and chat with over the next four days.

One mild exception to the rule is Patrick and Hailey; a couple moving from Perth to Sydney. Their car is on the Indian Pacific, and all their belongings are being carted across the country on a freight train. Their (adult) children are in New York City and London, and one their kids in London is moving back to Sydney soon. Patrick and Hailey simply feel too isolated in Perth now with the kids living overseas, and none of them would ever move back to Perth because it doesn’t have enough industry to support their chosen careers.

As much as you would expect Gold class to be packed with nothing but silver-haired retirees enjoying a pinnacle train journey that they’ve dreamed of for years (and trust me – there are lots of these people), I am also surprised at the variety in demographics.

I enjoy dinner with Richard and Jack, a charming gay couple in their early 40’s who live  in Melbourne. Jack is from Canada and Richard is from Asia, and both are gregarious and engaging. We enjoy a nightcap and fast conversation long after most people have vacated the dining and lounge cars and gone to bed. Jack is especially excited to see Broken Hill, which was instrumental in the filming of Pricilla: Queen of the Desert.

One of the interesting points of conversation with Richard and Jack is that they are both between jobs right now, and re-evaluating the direction of their lives in the face of some medical problems that Richard is recovering from.

It’s amazing how when your health comes into the fray, big change can be just around the corner. I muse about how my own bouts with illness have been cathartic in helping me to make the life changes I’ve needed to. I wish I haven’t had to wait for the ball to drop to do something about my life, but at least the wake-up calls haven’t been more serious. I vow to listen to my gut more actively to avoid this in the future.

The Whistle Stop in Kalgoorlie is tonight, but it’s at the awkward time of 10:30pm-1:30am. Since I checked out Kalgoorlie enroute to Perth, I decide to give it a miss this time in favour of getting some sleep and enjoying the scenery tomorrow. I head to bed eager to bring on another day aboard the train.

And no, I’m not bored yet.

Here’s the rest of this series: 

• Part Five – Stopping in Cook (for longer this time), and the Indian Pacific’s other job 
• Part Six – Some rough sleep through Adelaide, Broken Hill, and on to Sydney

This post Taking the Indian Pacific Train Across Australia: PART FOUR appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

“Why aren’t you staying in Perth for longer?” was a question I often fielded in describing this epic eight-day train journey during which Perth was but a brief intermission.

“How long should I stay in Perth?” I’d reply.

“Well, I don’t know, but longer than 24 hours,” would be the (completely fair) response.

Granted, yes. 24 hours isn’t long enough to get a true sense of a place, especially for a slow traveler like me. But had I planned on spending a week in Perth, people still wouldn’t have been satiated; instead I’d have been asked why I didn’t go down to Margaret River as well.

And if I’d planned on two weeks in WA visiting Perth and Margaret River, I’d be asked why I didn’t also take a trip up the rugged coast to experience a slice of the expansive Western Australian outback.

So my response to all this was simply that I don’t have time to see everything and do everything (at least this time around). I have to pick my battles, and this particular trip to Australia was about riding the rails. So that’s what I did – and did quite well, I might add – with The Ghan, The Indian Pacific, The Overland, and numerous CountryLink routes under my belt, totalling over 16,000kms.

My battle having been chosen, I had to accept that my time in Perth would be brief, and that ultimately I’ll just have to return to Western Australia another time to more comprehensively visit the area.

Luckily, a fellow travel writer (Amanda) who I’ve known online for years lives in Perth, and invited me to spend my day in Perth under her wise guidance and generosity. Once again, I revelled in how amazing it was to turn an online friendship into a tangible one; such a fulfilling experience.

This article was originally published in 2011, and has since been updated for accuracy of links and formatting.

Perth in 24 Hours

My train arrived in Perth on a Saturday morning, and after a flurry of text messages describing what we were each wearing(!), Amanda and I spotted each other on the platform and gave each other a big hug.

“Right. So what do you want to see while you’re here?” Amanda started as we climbed into her car.

“I would be delighted if you showed me your Perth,” was my response. I love playing tour guide to people as it allows me to see a place with fresh eyes, which can be an uplifting experience. I hoped that today would do the same for Amanda.

Kings Park

Our first stop was to take a stroll through and have lunch at Kings Park, which overlooks Perth and is the largest inner city park in the world. (“Large” being a theme we would revisit later in the day. Aussies – especially those in Western Australia – don’t do things in small measures).

Full of various memorials and with tracks through well-landscaped native bush, Kings Park is certainly a jewel for Perth’s crown.

Suburbs, and The River

For part of the afternoon, Amanda took me back to her home in the suburbs where I met her husband and spent some time playing with their beautiful baby boy. At one point in our drive through the city, we took a wrong turn (which I’ll take credit for as I was distracting Amanda with irrefutably riveting conversation, I’m sure).

All of a sudden, we were on a large bridge that goes over Swan River (a wide river that was full of various boats and an evidently loved resource for outdoor enthusiasts).

“Whoops,” said Amanda. “We’re headed South of the River. I’ll have to turn around.”

“What’s south of the river?” I asked.

This was more of a loaded question than I had anticipated. Apparently the river which runs through Perth is a line of demarcation between North of the River (also referred to as NOR), and South of the River (SOR). And interestingly, people from each side tend not to mix. Neither side of the river is necessarily better or safer; it’s simply the “other side”, to which you just don’t go.

“I dated a guy from SOR once, but of course it didn’t work out,” Amanda said matter-of-factly in regards to the reality of fraternizing with Perthites from the other side.

Leederville

Next up, we hopped on the train to Leederville, where we checked out the Oxford Street Market (on every Saturday from 9am-4pm), and soaked in the café culture of Oxford Street with an iced mocha.

The Beach

My only request for the day was to dip my toes in the Indian Ocean. And Perth is a very long narrow city (over 100kms long) due to a universal desire among residents to be close to the ocean, so this was not a difficult request to fulfill. We enjoyed a beautiful sunset stroll along a local stretch of beach that had no more than a dozen other people.

Hillary’s Boat Harbour

We decided to have dinner at Hillary’s Boat Harbour, formerly not much of a draw-card but now a popular spot for both locals and tourists, with scores of eclectic shops, restaurants, and even a small amusement park to keep the kids entertained.

We had expected the place to be busy (especially it being Saturday night), but the crowds here were way thicker than either Amanda or I had anticipated.

We soon realized we were blessed this night. We got some Japanese takeaway and sat down on one of the few available sections of bench overlooking the wharf. And no sooner than we dug into our noodles, did the reason for the thick crowds become apparent: we were in for the largest fireworks display in Western Australia, and we coincidentally had the best seats in the house!

As much as Amanda tried to convince me that she had personally arranged the fireworks to celebrate my arrival in Perth, I had a sneaking suspicion there was more to it. And indeed there was: as the closest Saturday to December 1^st, tonight was a celebration of the “Launch of Summer”.

Amanda and I both felt pretty good about our day in Perth. We enjoyed lots of time gabbing while wandering around and lunching at Kings Park, we put our finger on the pulse of Leederville’s hip café scene, enjoyed a classic Western Australian sunset on the beach, and took in the largest fireworks display in WA while people-watching at the boat harbour.

All in all, a pretty good 24 hours in Perth, if you ask me.

Things to Do in Perth

Check out my Travel Lifestyle Guides for more ways to earn money remotely, spend it wisely, and balance the two so you can travel as long as you wish, in a financially sustainable way. 

This post Perth in 24 Hours appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

Learn about my grand departure from Sydney and the people I met on Day One. 

And then read about Day Two, which included a whistle stop in Broken Hill. 

Today, we will visit the hustle and bustle of Cook and check out Kalgoorlie’s interesting history. 

This post was originally published in 2011. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 
I received a complimentary pass from Great Southern Rail for this journey.

Indian Pacific Train: DAY THREE

My early night to bed last night has paid off; I’ve made up for lost sleep with a blissful night of 10 hours slumber while we canter across the Australian outback.

I wake up with a start. I have so much to do today! I have so much writing, and reading, and chatting with travelers, and gazing out the window, and exploring to do! And tomorrow, I get off the train in Perth for a day – a day which marks the halfway point of my journey on the Indian Pacific.

And I’m not even close to being bored yet!

This mission to become bored is proving to be difficult.

After our departure from Adelaide, the scenery is now reduced to red earth, flat ground, and scrubby bushes. I think this is the famed Nullarbor desert, but I’m not sure, and I don’t ask yet.

I become frustrated taking pictures. The glass is double-paned, which distorts the images. And although the outside and inside of the train is kept very clean, dirt can get between the glass, which further distorts pictures. Lastly, I’m stymied by my complete inability to get anything in focus, which drives me to chat with Mark, who I met on day one.

Mark is my target because he is carrying a good camera with a big lens, which leads me to believe he’s a better photographer than I am. I’m not disappointed with this assumption; he immediately helps me start taking clearer shots by instructing me to set my camera to shutter speed priority (TV) and the speed to 1/500.

In further conversation, I learn that Mark has experience teaching English in Japan, and is eager to live abroad for a year in either India or the UK. He’s hoping to leverage his IT degree abroad, but feels he needs to put in some work experience at home in the States first (since his degree is still new).

His trip to Australia is part of a three-week whirlwind that started in Sydney before this four day train ride, a wedding in Perth, a flight to Alice Springs with a trip to Uluru, a flight to Cairns to see the Great Barrier Reef, and then an exhausting flight home. The stingy vacation policy in the States is already getting to Mark, who craves some serious time on the road to experience all facets of life abroad. I wonder how long he’ll stay in the traditional workforce before finding an alternative that works for him.

After lunch I meet Bob, an elderly gentleman who constantly refers to Betty (who is having a nap). He’s evidently expecting her to wake up at any moment, as he watches the door for her to appear during most of our conversation. It’s endearing.

Bill is a well-traveled Aussie, having been to all seven continents a few times over. His wife died four years ago in his arms, and there’s a love that remains for her in his words and tone while he describes their life together. But his wife told him to move on after her, and that he eventually did.

Bill met Betty in South Africa, where he was traveling and she was living. She spends her time between South Africa and Canada (where she lives about half the year). Betty and Bill are an item but have allegiances to their respective home countries and families; so they meet up where they can in the world, and travel together as much as they can, making the very most out of each moment they share.

They quickly become the adored couple by all on the train ride from Sydney to Perth.

Whistle Stop: Cook

Although Cook holds some degree of interest to me, it is raining, and I decide to “discover Cook” (with its booming population of five) on the way back from Perth in a few days. Instead I’m engrossed in conversation with Mark while we stretch our legs and amble in the light rain.

Without realizing it, I’m settling into the relaxed pace of train travel quite nicely; maintaining a nice balance of impulsive chatting, musing, and working.

Back On Board

While gazing out the window (a common – and commonly accepted – pastime on the train), I hear an announcement that we are approaching the Western Australia border, and that we are 2,900kms from Sydney and 1,400kms from Perth.

I look out the window. We are surrounded by flat desert. The border doesn’t carry with it much fanfare. There also isn’t much life out here; one of the few signs of human existence (besides the train) is a line of piled rocks that follows alongside the track for ages. It is what we can see of the buried telecommunications pipeline that connects Perth with the rest of Australia.

I consider how much work building this line would have been given the distance and a generally uninhabitable climate. This in turn helps me begin to really understand how isolated Perth (where I’ll be tomorrow) really is.

Never mind how remote Perth is, I think. Look out the window! You know the ground is flat when, just below the horizon, it looks wet. I find myself mesmerized with the oasis-like blur of the reflecting ground in the distance as it melts into the sky.

The low scrub gets lower. Just when I think I’m seeing the great expanse of “nothing” that I’ve been promised of the Nullarbor desert, a few minutes later the landscape becomes even more barren. Now, I’m on the Nullarbor, no doubt about it. And I love it, because it’s so far from “nothing”, yet the sense of isolation weighs heavy.

I see heaps of wedge-tailed eagles at the side of the tracks. The wedge-tailed eagle is the symbol of the Indian Pacific train, and aptly so; I spend the next hour spotting and (unsuccessfully) taking pictures of them. Although most fly beside or away from the train, one remains seated on his rock only three metres away, his back to the train and wings slightly splayed to show off his might. It’s magnificent.

Train Time

Having changed the time back half an hour the first night, then one hour back last night, we’re not actually in a real time zone. Instead, we’re on “train time”, a time designed to follow us through the desert and into Western Australia, easing our transition to Perth time while maximizing daylight hours. I guess. All I really know is that it’s leaving me feeling confused, wondering when we’ll actually be stopping in Kalgoorlie, where we’re due to arrive later today.

Then I wonder how much it really matters; we’ll get there when we get there. Sometimes we’re early, sometimes we’re late. That’s life on a train.

Congratulations

“Congratulations, you’ve just completed riding the longest stretch of straight track in the world at 477kms,” comes the announcement over the speaker system. And shortly thereafter an announcement follows that we’ve reached the end of the Nullarbor plains. I am shocked; we’re still 20 hours from Perth! I thought that the Nullarbor engulfed the general expanse between Perth and Adelaide; instead it is only a portion thereof. The mighty Nullarbor. What a massive land this is to dwarf such a renowned desert.

Almost immediately after the announcement, the vegetation gets taller and denser, and the landscape visibly adjusts.

I was told that my best chance of getting bored on the train would be on the Nullarbor. No boredom yet. We’ll see if I can become bored on the way back. I’ve got a (sinking?) feeling that it won’t work though.

Whistle Stop: Kalgoorlie

We arrive at Kalgoorlie at 7:30pm, or 8:30pm, or hell – I don’t know what time it is as I’m still stuck in “train time” purgatory. But the train arrives at what feels like an awkward time and a bunch of us pile on to a tour bus to get the most of Kalgoorlie during our short evening stop.

Kalgoorlie was founded on gold in 1893, and it remains a town heavily involved in gold, as well as just about any other element they can get out of the ground (which around here is a lot). We visit the Superpit: the aptly named 3.5km by 1.5 km pit that is 400 metres deep. It’s the largest open-cut gold mine in Australia, and soon to be the largest in the world at this pace of expansion.

But the tour isn’t just about mining; it’s also about prostitutes. No tour of Kalgoorlie is complete without a cruise by a few of the local brothels, where an in-depth discussion of the history and nature of prostitution in Kalgoorlie seems to follow naturally. I learn that prostitution is illegal but tolerated here, and once a week doctors come in to give “the girls” medicals, while once every two weeks the Sisters of Mercy come in to counsel the girls. Bless their hearts.

I’m particularly intrigued by the attempt at discretion on the part of the brothels, given that this is a relatively small town. Not only do they provide secluded parking around the back, but if you charge your “visit” to your credit card, it will come up on the statement as a hardware store charge. All I wonder is who would put a visit to a brothel on plastic? It’s all about the frequent flyer miles, I guess.

Ahem.

I notice a huge concentration of pubs, which actually dwarfs the number of pubs that existed when Kalgoorlie was in its gold rush heyday. Some of these pubs feature “skimpies”: scantily clad barmaids, who earn a cool $65/hour for their attire (or lack thereof).

The tour of Kalgoorlie is about more than mines and ladies of the night, but admittedly not much. Our bus driver is a lovely informative woman with a sing-song-y voice who used to drive trucks in the mines. She points out the Islamic influence in architecture as a tribute to the camel trains which were once the main mode of transportation, and she sings about the history of main street as we crawl down it, being passed by walkers most of the time. Maybe it’s my lack of interest in (or support of) the mining industry that makes me lackadaisical about my Kalgoorlie experience.

But to its credit, Kalgoorlie has character, and tons of it. I can only imagine the characters I’d meet if I spent a week here. Given its roots in mining, Kalgoorlie still feels like a “wild west” border town, where life is lived on the edge. Truly.

I wander back to the train after quickly stretching my legs on the tour’s conclusion, then head to sleep, ready for Perth tomorrow.

Read the rest of this Indian Pacific Adventure here:
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six

This post Cook and Kalgoorlie – Taking the Indian Pacific Train Across Australia: PART THREE appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2011. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 
I received a complimentary pass from Great Southern Rail for this journey.

Day Two

Accounting for a half-hour time change back before bedtime, I awake (somewhat self-begrudgingly) just before dawn. Apparently catching the sun rise as we approach Broken Hill is a sight to behold.

I jump up and shower, pump down a coffee, and finally open my eyes only to discover that the sun rise won’t exactly be as spectacular as promised – due to the rain. Ah well; I take the opportunity to get some “early morning” shots.

Whistle Stop: Broken Hill

I’m still bleary-eyed when we arrive in Broken Hill at 6:30am. After a short walk I discover the coffee shop I used to frequent when I was here before, and I grab a seat and reminisce about old times.

At the next table is a father and son duo riding their motorcycles across the outback. Similar to me, their trip isn’t about the destination; their destination having been somewhat arbitrarily picked as a far-flung turn-around point based on how far they could get in the five days they had off for the trip. I wonder as we part ways where they will stop next and what they’ll discover on their journey.

Heading back to the train, I have a closer look at the platform setup. There are four or five elderly women spread out along the platform, each sitting beside a table of souvenirs and handicrafts. As if intentionally coordinated in their efforts, their wares are almost identical, and they’re all quietly knitting while glancing and smiling at passers-by. It feels like a church bazaar.

Whistle Stop: Adelaide

A few more conversations with passing travelers and an article (meaning the act of having written one) later, we arrive in Adelaide in the early afternoon.

Having visited Adelaide once before, I have a vague idea of the layout of the city and I realize the CBD (central business district) is within fairly easy walking distance (20-30 minutes each way). So I strap on my walking shoes and head into the city, relishing the chance to stretch my legs and get the blood pumping on this hot sunny day. Given that I’m on the train for eight days, I must take advantage of every opportunity I get.

I cruise through Adelaide Central Market, a 135 year-old entity that is the largest fresh produce market in the Southern Hemisphere. After pawing mangos and watching the fish mongers auction off their wares to passers-by, I pick up some food to take back to the train for dinner, then meander through the CBD, intentionally taking the long way back to the train station.

Back On Board: Change of Crew

A new train crew has taken over for the rest of the journey to Perth (and back to Adelaide). All Great Southern Rail employees are based in Adelaide, and each train manager hires, manages, and works with their own crew. Each crew, in turn, rotates through the various train routes, all of which (for them) start and end in Adelaide. Almost as a family unit, each crew works, eats, sleeps, and even plays together while they’re on a trip.

I say this because the train crew is instrumental in the experience of traveling on the train, and you feel the shift when the crew changes. One train manager later tells me a story of how a passenger approached him enthusiastically, asking if he remembered the fellow and his wife. After an uncomfortable “ummmm”, the passenger tried to prompt his memory by saying they had met during his last trip on the Indian Pacific – seven years ago. In retelling the story, the train manager admits that he meets about 200,000 passengers a year; it’s tough to remember all those faces.

Regardless of whether faces are remembered, the friendly crew on-board the trains certainly play a part in defining the rail experience for passengers, especially when you are traveling in Gold or Platinum class (as I did on The Ghan, and do later in this trip).

In addition to the new crew, there is a glut of new passengers, such that my previously near-empty carriage is now full. There is a new buzz to the train as the new passengers settle in, many of whom seem to be couples and/or international travelers.

I’m not feeling overly social tonight, and there is a lot of time yet to get to know my new riding companions. I eat the dinner I bought at Central Market, do some writing, and hit the hay early, having been up since before dawn. The clocks change back another hour tonight, so I look forward to an extra-full night of sleep as recompense.

Catch Part 3 of this Epic Train Journey Here! 
Then, read Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6!

This post Taking the Indian Pacific Train Across Australia: PART TWO appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

In reflecting on my three-day adventure riding The Ghan from Darwin to Adelaide, I was surprised at how quickly the time passed. I had figured that, despite my love of long-distance train travel, riding a train for 3,000kms (followed shortly thereafter by a further 1,000km by train from Adelaide to Melbourne and a few hundred kilometres of commuter trains after that) could devolve into a lacklustre experience; translation: it could get boring.

But to my surprise and delight (and almost disappointment), my time on The Ghan flew by. Between the well-timed whistle stops in Katherine and Alice Springs and the always-lingering conversations over mealtimes, I disembarked the train with very few of my pre-determined “train projects” complete.

So this time, I needed to challenge myself: I wanted to construct a train trip that gave me more than enough time to do everything: to take in the vast and changing landscapes of Australia, to meet interesting characters on the train, to read, to write, to sleep, and just possibly, to experience boredom.

I actually wanted to see if it’s possible to become bored on a train.

With this (somewhat misguided) motivation in mind, I became the architect of a train trip that most people wouldn’t dream of – neither in their fantasies nor their nightmares. In fact, on announcing my itinerary to even the staff working on the Indian Pacific (being people who I’d figure could best understand my passion for train travel), one girl responded initially with a blank stare indicating a lack of comprehension, then a flicker of both admiration and confusion accompanied by the comment “Boy, you really do like train travel, don’t you?”

Yes, yes I do.

My plan of attack? To take the overnight train from Melbourne to Sydney (11 hours, and 1,000kms). After a couple of days catching up with Sydney friends, I would board the Indian Pacific in Sydney and ride it the 4,000kms to Perth (stopping enroute in Broken Hill, Adelaide, Cook, and Kalgoorlie). After a whopping 24-hour stop in Perth (with a whirlwind tour aided by a fellow travel writer), I would re-board the Indian Pacific and ride it all the way back the 4,000kms and four days to Sydney to arrive in the morning, spend the day in Bondi with a friend, then board the last of my overnight trains back to Melbourne to complete my train journey that, after all is said and done, nears 11,000kms by train in 11 days.

If boredom can elude me in 11,000kms over 11 days, then I will have met my match in trains.

This article was originally published in 2010 and has since been updated for accuracy of links and formatting.

This Indian Pacific Train Travel Series

This Indian Pacific series is intended to give you a sense of what it’s like to travel on the Indian Pacific; from the people you meet, to the scenery you pass by, to simply living life on a train. Long-distance train travel is much less about the destination, and much more about the journey (which is how I justify spending only 24 hours in Perth; something I’ll explain later).

So without ado, please enjoy this multi-part series about riding the Indian Pacific train across Australia (and back)!

INDIAN PACIFIC: DAY ONE

Settling in: Meeting Characters

Interestingly, not all passengers are traveling all the way through to Perth. Joe, for example, is simply taking the train the one night from Sydney to Adelaide, as he’s doing a reconnaissance mission in preparation for a move to Sydney. I meet a few other people who are only using the Indian Pacific as a (luxury) commuter train of sorts between Sydney and Adelaide to visit family or do business. I’m told that new passengers will also be getting on in Adelaide for the long haul to Perth.

In fact, there doesn’t seem to be any one theme that defines the people who are accompanying me on this journey. There’s Armand from France: a 20 year old backpacker taking a break from university; and Manuel from Germany, who is a 36 year old engineer and taking a four month career break (something that he does regularly) to travel through Australia and New Zealand.

There’s 29 year-old Mark from the States on a lightning-fast Aussie vacation to attend a friend’s wedding in Perth, an Australian couple in their 40s relaxing on vacation, and a couple in their 70’s who are from different countries and enjoying their rare time together on the Indian Pacific. I will get to know some of these people better (as will you) as the trip goes on.

And of course, not all characters are friend-material, which makes the ride even more interesting.

At one point before dinner, I make a trip to the lounge car with my computer and camera, setting up at one of the available tables with power points. While my computer is loading, I turn around to get a shot of the lounge car with my camera. The woman seated just to the left of my shot lets out a little scream.

“Not in my direction! I’m sensitive to cameras,” she says in a sour tone, as she gets up to move behind me and my camera, face pursed the entire time.

“You weren’t even in the shot. I don’t tend to take portraits of people I don’t know,” I respond, immediately feeling defensive given this woman’s tone, but trying to remain cool.

“You should read more about EMFs. They’re very bad,” she starts, telling me that only once it becomes a problem do we realize how badly EMFs affect our lives. In an attempt to gain some sort of common ground, I respond by demonstrating an understanding of what she’s referring to by discussing the earth’s magnetism, the presence of harmful waves in technology and urban development, and how our bodies respond to it all. “Oh. Well, I’m not talking about the earth’s magnetism here. I’m talking about EMFs”.

Right. I must be thinking about the other electro-magnetic fields she’s referring to.

Moving on, she surveys my electronic domain. “I’m sensitive to that stuff too,” she says with a leering gesture towards my laptop. “Are you planning on staying there?”

As I’ve obviously already staked a claim of sorts in this corner of the train next to this delightful woman, it seems is a rhetorical question.

“Um, yes, as you can see, it was my plan to work here. But if you are sensitive, would you like me to move to the other end of the car? Would that help you?”

In the end, apparently moving my operation to the other end of the car (where, incidentally, there are no power points) is what this sour woman wants. I find it annoyingly ironic when I catch her no more than 15 minutes later….with a camera in her hands.

This woman doesn’t ruin my day, however. Instead I revel in how the differences between people make this world such an interesting place. I celebrate the connections I’ve made already on the train in such a short period of time; some of which I expect to nurture into deeper relationships as we journey across the Australian outback together.

At the end of my first day of riding the Indian Pacific, I’ve not even seen an inkling of the boredom-monster; in fact as usual the time has passed a little too quickly while I’ve gazed out over the Blue Mountains outside Sydney, chatted with fellow passengers, and even written a few small articles.

I go to bed excited for my trip to la-la-land, inspired by the gentle canter of the train.

Note: I received a complimentary pass from Great Southern Rail for this journey. 

There’s More to this Indian Pacific Adventure Series!

• Part Two
• Part Three
• Part Four
• Part Five
• Part Six

This post Taking the Indian Pacific Train Across Australia: PART ONE appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!