General Chat

Its all good Allan, I am from Sydney so was thinking of trying your trip from this side to see if it was as good. lol :-D

Loving it cant wait for the rest. :-D

lol Barbra :-D

Well you had a good start to your hols then Allan.
Hope it got even better :-D x Barbra

Ann!!....Would I tell fibs??? :-D

That was a rhetorical question, by the way.

:-D :-D :-D :-D

Magic :-D :-D :-D :-D

Hi Ingrid. I hope that you are not from Adelaide :-D

I'm sure Allan, I'm sure.

:-D :-D loving the sound of this holiday, :-D :-D

Possibly tomorrow, Ann. It's very traumatic to talk about it as the wounds are still so raw :-0

lol :-D

Waiting for the next installment :-)

:-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D

Yes Ann?

Allan :-D :-D :-D

OH and I have recently completed a rail and sail holiday from Perth to Adelaide and back to Perth Fremantle.

The following is based on diary enteries made during this epic journey and which we managed to smuggle past our guards.

The great day dawned at last.

OH and I had been looking forward to this day for some time; our ‘Rail and Sail’ Holiday. Two days on the Indian Pacific train from Perth to Adelaide, two nights in Adelaide and then a nice six day cruise back to Fremantle. No need for passports, all journeying done in Australian territory.
What is the saying about expectation not living up to reality?

I had always thought that The Indian Pacific was so called as it linked the Indian Ocean (Perth) to the Pacific Ocean (Sydney). Not on this one!!

We arrived at the Railway Station and immediately registered ourselves and our baggage. Proudly, we displayed our tickets for the ‘Gold’ class service, looking down on those lesser mortals who could only afford the ‘Red’ class travel.

Then came the announcement, “All passengers travelling on the Indian Pacific may now board. Would those passengers travelling Gold Class please board first”

Joy and expectation turned to despondency and utter disbelief. There at the platform stood a goods train!! As Gold Class passengers were herded on to the roof of the goods carriages, a further announcement was made advising that due to the current financial situation, some economies had to be made to the service.

By this time it was too late to try to rectify the matter, or even obtain a refund. The Red Class passengers were already clinging on to any exterior hand and footholds for dear life.

This was where the ‘Indian’ part of the name arose; the train now looked like a provincial express leaving Mumbai. The Pacific part was that no one would talk (S)Pacifically about food

Turning to the OH I advised her to look on the bright side: two nights under the stars and a forecast of fine weather. I actually saw the stars sooner than anticipated and where she found the space to swing her arm with such force I never did find out.

And so the adventure began. The wind in our hair, the sun on our skin, the sand in our eyes.

Meal times were very hit and miss affairs. We had to rely on the sympathy of residents of the homesteads adjacent to the track who would throw food to us. This was most welcome, and it wasn’t until sometime later that we found that these kind hearted spirits were actually throwing the food at us, not to us. For every passenger knocked of the train, the locals received five points which could be redeemed at the local pub. Hence the description of hit and miss.

This torment only ceased when we were crossing the Nullarbor, as residences became an infrequent novelty rather than a constant nuisance.

Two days later, having suffered many privations, we finally arrived at Adelaide and slithered off the carriage roof onto the platform. “Well,” says I to the OH, “That was a novel, but interesting journey!”

I still refuse to believe that it was my OH that hit me with the piece of 4x2. She’s normally such a placid person

At last we reached our Hotel, and here things improved considerably during the daylight hours provided you kept the curtains drawn.

The hotel was situated at the start (or finish, depending on your direction of travel) of Hindley Street. All cities have areas like this one, some much worse and some only slightly worse: Kings Cross in Sydney, Northbridge in Perth, Soho in London. You will probably catch my drift! Within a few hundred metres of the Hotel were several s*x shops and a few str*p clubs, with pubs and nightclubs filling the vacant spaces in between.

It was at night when the problems began. Loud music, screams, moans. We asked to be put in a quieter room and were transferred to one at the front of the Hotel. This room was double glazed.

This eliminated, or at least reduced, the music noise, but as for the screams and moans these continued unabated. At length, the night manager pounded on our door and told us that if we didn’t quieten things down considerably he would have no option but to report us to the Police.

Suitably chastened, OH and I decided to sleep.

Then the Sunday dawned when we were to transfer to our ship for the voyage back to Fremantle.
.
The excitement! the joy!; all of which turned to terror when the Meat Wagon arrived to convey us to our ship.

Pausing only to collect other poor souls signed up for the same holiday, and to deliver various grades of offal to certain shadowy establishments (it was an offal journey) we finally arrived at Port Adelaide.

To be continued