Monday, September 17, 2007

IndianPacific - 1

Wednesday, Sept. 12, after our meat-pie lunch at the Lord Nelson we take a cab to Central Station and find the platform for the IP, if I may abbreviate it that way. We’ve been concerned because the directions we received said take only a small bag on board; have large bags shipped on the baggage car, with no access until Perth. The IP folks on site tell us, though, that if you’re going to Perth, you’ll probably need all your stuff in your compartment with you – and there’s room for what we have. I had packed with the idea that I would have only my small bag, but was glad, nevertheless, to take them both on board. The compartment is small, but with enough room for me and the two bags.

We’re also told when we board to wait in our cabins until our “car-manager” comes by to instruct us on safety and other essentials. I get my lecture, but Dick doesn’t. He can’t leave his cabin, just down the row from mine. I go find the car-manager and she comes to instruct and free him. Part of the process is to give our meal-sitting preference – early or late. We wanted early, but those slots were filled before they got to us. Late dinner is 8:00pm, but when you consider that they fold your bed down while you’re at dinner, maybe it’s better to eat later.


Anyhow, when we get back from dinner, my bunk is down and apparently so are the others in the car, but Dick’s isn’t. He’s starting to think they’re picking on him and is about ready to push the emergency button, which we’ve been told is a no-no except in life-threatening circumstances, to get some attention. (Not really – Dick wouldn’t do that.) He finds the staff and they rush to take care of him.


At dinner we sat with Don. Don was traveling from Sydney, his home, to Adelaide to see his brother and sister who he hasn’t seen for 40 years. Dining car was very noisy and Don’s voice was soft and his accent was pretty thick, so I didn’t get a lot of this directly, but Dick and I discussed it afterwards, so I think this is the story.

Don volunteered to fight in Vietnam against his family’s wishes. They turned their back on him. When he came back, he got the sort of abuse from his fellow citizens that many Vietnam vets got, here as well as the US. All very traumatic, but after 40 years he’s going to try to reconnect with his family. Hope he is successful.


One other thing: Dick like milk with his meals. He makes the request; some times they bring milk. Still picking on him.


Full train day tomorrow. Stay tuned.


Cheers,

Rob

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