The Weekend Australian - Travel - - Travel & Indulgence -

‘I DID what Tol­stoy did and jumped out of the train when it stopped in the evening at the old fron­tier. Far up at the front the engine desul­to­rily gasped, and wan faces watched me through crusted car­riage win­dows as I walked all alone down the plat­form to the gate. There was no pony trap await­ing me of course (Tol­stoy’s re­minded him sadly of pic­nics at Yas­naya Polyana), but a smart enough green Fiat stood in the sta­tion yard, a young man in sun­glasses and a blue blazer beck­oned me from the wheel, and in no time we were off along the rut­ted track to­wards the ridge.’

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