Going, going, going... Ghan
LUXURY trains, often referred to generically as Pullmans, have been with us since the 1840s. The Trans-Siberian, the West Highland Line, the Pride of Africa all evoke romance, adventure, and for those in first class, unabashed comfort.
But from day one they had their detractors. One Englishwoman in the early 20th century spoke about ‘ the vulgar depravity there is aboard them nowadays’. That was Lady Chatterley speaking about The Orient Express.
Hedonism wasn’t always present. Some coaches had pianos and organs installed (for those wishing g to enjoy a church service) as well l as the odd library, occasionally a byre. Tsar Nicholas II was so keen on fresh milk that on a state visit to Germany his train towed two o carriages of cows and farmhands.
Today’s Ghan Train (pictured) ) has no cattle, no organ, no library. y. But you’re guaranteed luxury and d pampering. Hedonism you have to o provide yourself.
The train makes a return journey between Adelaide in South Australia to Darwin at the tip of the Northern Territory, some 2,979km away, twice a week. One of the e world’s great rail journeys, it takes 54 hours, including a four-hour stopover i n Alice Springs. It endured a five month l ay- off f because of Covid, but services s resumed at the end of August.
IWAITED for The Ghan att Adelaide’s Keswick Terminal. I can never stand at a train station without thinking of Derry NIR station. ‘No loitering’ a platform sign warns. But how else do you wait for a train, except by loitering?
Still, I always try to l ook purposeful.
Fellow travellers were now gathering at Keswick. A gentleman from the train-spotting community stood nearby. Notebook at the ready, his pen was cocked, binoculars slung round his neck, rucksack carefully buckled up. Had he been playing the part, he’d have been way over the top.
He edged closer. Wanted to impart details — no doubt about that. Still, no harm, so I can now anorakly confirm that The Ghan Train is pulled by two locomotives — namely Pacific National NR class engines. The ‘Ghan’ name probably comes from the Afghan cameleers who once worked in the outback. Other theories are available. We finally clanked out of Keswick Terminal. The Ghan chugs along at a leisurely pace through endless stretches of bush, which at some point become outback ( the trainspotter again). We passed through f armland, bluebush prairie and semi- desert lands where scrubby vegetation poked through the dry, red soil.
The landscape shimmered — we were crossing through some of the hottest parts of Australia. If it’s around 40C here it means it’s turned out nice again.
Just after Alice Springs we began speeding through the Simpson Desert named, oddly enough, after a manufacturer of washing machines. The Simpson is a desert of astonishing immensity: 100,000 square miles. That’s more than double the size of Ireland.
It’s easy to settle into the rhythm of the train. In some places it picks up speed — occasionally touching 100kph — again, according to my trainspotting friend.
The days pass mesmerically, transcendentally even, with time almost suspended. Fans of irony will enjoy that, because the railways are responsible for imposing time on us in the first place.
It all began innocently enough – the introduction of living by the clock. In order to navigate the ocean we needed to carry standardised time in order to work out our longitude. Fair enough.
But with the comin’ of the railroad, time was imposed on everyone whether we were going anywhere or not.
YET today, by and large the most languid way to travel is by train. And so we trundled northwards, on to the very tip of the Northern Territory.
Darwin is situated in what the Australians call the Top End. It’s a rustic sort of place, and the people don’t stand on ceremony.
When the Ghan arrived on its inaugural journey on the new line, a group of some hundred Darwinians lined the tracks and mooned at the passengers. Not as a protest, just for the craic. The trainspotter didn’t tell me that one. Jackie, the conductor did.
She also claimed that the Ghan was the longest train in the world. Announcing our arrival in Darwin she said: ‘Passengers in the front coaches will be arriving at 2.30pm; if you’re at the back of the train it’s going to be more like a quarter to three.’
The Ghan Train is an astonishingly attractive way to see the forbidding landscape of Australia, and some of its more climatically aggressive areas — the outback, the bush, the desert, the endless plains.
But this is Australia from a comfy chair, without putting too much effort into the sight-seeing.
It’s ideal if you are, like me, something of a mild colonial Boy.
Details on The Ghan can be found at