Sydney to Melbourne

I haven’t had a good long overland train ride since I left the US. Sure, there were some rail days in Europe but the legs out there are so short and full of transfers that you hardly get any time to relax. Long haul rail is like being on a ferry. You’re exposed to some truly desolate places with all time to unwind and space to stretch.

I picked up some snacks for the road and got on my way. Luckily for me, my room is across the street from Sydney Central with a grocery store on the way. Easy and peasy. I found my platform and took my seat. First class on the XPT here is comparable to a typical seat on the Surfliner back home. Unfortunately I don’t get the second story views or the outlets I’ve grown to love. Why is it that outside of the US people think it’s acceptable to run a 10 hour long train service without outlets. Just absurd.

My seatmate is an Aussie from the northern part of the country. He just flew in to Melbourne and is going out to the middle of nowhere to spend some time with his parents. He’s just put in notice at work and feeling free while he runs out the clock on his accrued leave time. Mom and dad have a big honey do list for him to handle, it’ll take all of the two weeks he’s set aside in this nowhere town.

Nowhere

As we chat, I’m amazed by how quickly the city fades away. There are five million people in Sydney, after an hour there is nothing but brush as far as the eye can see. The train pushes through the golden hills and there is nothing. As we approach civilization the only clue is improved fencing and the odd house in the distance. The landscape reminds me of California. Specifically the part of the state between Santa Maria and Atascadero, just with the odd kangaroo now and again. Cell service is spotty, more so than jt would be in the middle of nowhere in the US. This is real isolation. Most of the platforms we stop at have room for one or two cars to open and we halt only as long as a lazy bus would.

The same place

We pick up a reliable cell signal only an hour from Melbourne. It is eerie how quickly we go from wilderness and the odd ranch to a dense city center. After a transfer and a short ride further, I’m in Caulfield and a familiar face is there to pick me up at the train station. I last saw Eva at my bar mitzvah which was roughly a zillion years ago. No matter, we’re family. She and her husband Sam were kind enough to take me in for a bit and show me some of the relations and the city.

I’ve left about five full days out here, mainly to allow me time to see family. I have quite a few relatives in the area and it’s an unfamiliar experience after being on the road for so long to be suddenly surrounded by people who want to know me. I’m staying first with Sam and Eva who immediately dive into what I should do when I get here. I realize I’m out of practice in the art of communicating plans and dividing my time between multiple interests. They are not the only two relations out here. Within an hour my phone buzzes again and more plans start to form. My head is spinning. I guess this is good practice for being back in the world. I can’t just tear off and do nothing without asking anyone now. This is a change.