Stanley - Thursday
I love
trains. And have done so ever since my
family took a train – steam engine, of course – from Johannesburg to Durban
sometime in the early 1950s.
Whenever I
can, I take a train in preference to flying or driving. When I fly, which is often, I have to put up
with lines, security, and uncomfortable seats.
When I drive, I have to concentrate on what I am doing.
With a
train, security is minimal, the seats are comfortable, there’s time to think,
reflect, and read, and there are people to meet and talk to if one wants to. The only occasional discomfort is a bed too
short.
However . .
.
Unless you
live in Europe, punctuality is often variable.
I use the Empire Builder from Minneapolis to Chicago whenever I
can. The problem? Freight (and oil) traffic has priority in
North Dakota, so the poor train is sometimes 8 hours late arriving in
Minneapolis (actually St. Paul). And
even though a European fast train would take no longer than three hours to reach Chicago, the
Empire Builder takes eight.
So, it’s
important not to have pressing engagements at the other end.
My latest
trip was last week, when I took the Shosholoza Meyl train from Cape Town to
Johannesburg to work with Michael on our new book.
It’s an overnight trip of about 1400
kms. It gets its name from a great
African song – Shosholoza – which is often thought of as South Africa’s second
anthem. The song is about long-distance
rail trips to work on the mines.
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My train |
The train
potters along on relatively narrow-gauge tracks, starting in the scenic Western
Cape with its spectacular mountains and vineyards, then ambles through the Great
Karoo – a vast semi-arid area which is home to South Africa’s sheep farms. After a stop in Kimberely with its famous hand-dug Big
Hole – where diamonds were found 150 years ago – it heads for the Highveld
(altitude 1500 to 1600 metres) and ends in Johannesburg.
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Train starts in Cape Town |
My train
set off at 0905 last Tuesday with an anticipated arrival in Johannesburg at
1100 the following morning.
Perfect! A sleeping compartment
to myself, meals included, and decent wines available at the bar. A day of pleasure to look forward to.
I admit I
was puzzled by the Train Manager’s welcoming speech in the lounge before
embarking. He said that we should regard
the 1100 arrival time as a printing error.
One o’clock is the actual time.
Then he went on to describe the service and amenities, and ended with a
comment about how the train is sometimes late and could arrive at four.
Little did I
know.
The first
twelve hours were spectacular, climbing through the first range of mountains to
the Worcester area, then through the stunning Hex River Valley with its
wall-to-wall vineyards and rugged mountains, then up through a long tunnel to
Touws River at the beginning of the Karoo, which is one of my favorite parts of
the country. But then I prefer deserts
to forests.
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Western Cape approaching Paarl |
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Paarl derives from the Dutch for pearl - a granite pearl |
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Western Cape winter wheat fields |
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Climbing up through the first mountain range |
The Karoo
is a vast area of about over 300,000 sq. kms - a third again the size of the UK; eight times the size of Denmark (sans Greenland); and half again the size of Illinois. It lies about 1000 to 1300 metres above sea
level. At best, it enjoys 25 cms of rain
per year, with many parts considerably less.
As in many
places in the world, trains have fallen out of favour, so many of the small
stations, once used to service the farms, have become derelict. It was sad watching abandoned houses and
station buildings, with difficult-to-read signs. When I was young, this was a vibrant route.
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In the middle of the Karoo |
|
Abandoned |
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Station sign |
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Lamp post leaning in De Aar |
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Karoo scene |
|
Karoo scene |
|
Karoo scene |
|
Karoo scene |
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Abandoned stone sheep pen |
|
Oasis |
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Karoo scene |
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Karoo scene |
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Karoo scene |
|
Karoo scene |
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Karoo scene |
We enjoyed
a delicious five-course dinner at about 1900 and had just settled in the lounge
for a medicinal brandy, when the train stopped – in the middle of the Karoo –
no towns in sight. Sheep on the rails,
maybe? Another train coming in the other
direction, perhaps? There was plenty of
brandy, so I wasn’t worried. And I particularly like KWV 10-year Old.
|
No shortage of liquid |
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Good company from England and Germany |
After about
five hours in the same place, a dozen or so tourists had moved through their
stress of going to miss their flights home, to slightly inebriated acceptance,
having rebooked for the following day.
It was late
when we all went to our cabins to sleep.
When we
awoke, we were still in the same place, now twelve hours late. I didn’t mind. Good company, good food and wine. And a good book. A pleasure.
|
The view from where we stopped |
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Taking a break from the train |
Eventually,
after nineteen hours of being motionless, the train started up. Apparently, the overhead power line for the
electric engine had broken and was difficult to repair. Nineteen hours difficult!
Anyway, to
cut a long story short, we arrived in Johannesburg at eight o’clock on Thursday morning instead
of eleven o’clock on Wednesday.
Twenty-one hours late.
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Green grass approaching Johannesburg |
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This one never made it! |
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Typical Johannesburg mine dump - from mine tailings |
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Approaching Johannesburg station |
I do have
to compliment the train’s staff. Somehow,
they managed to add two extra meals, and maintain their humour in the face of
some increasingly restless passengers.
Overall, the passengers were also fine once the uncertainty of knowing
whether they would make their original flights disappeared. Then everyone sat down to enjoy the experience.
I have been
asked numerous times whether I would go on the Shosholoza Meyl again. Absolutely, I would. But I would ensure I had no pressing
appointments at the other end.
How delightful, Stan. You know that I share your enthusiasm for train travel. Like you, I would have no problem with the delays. If that train shudders and shakes like the Amtrack trains, I would have been grateful it was stopped long enough so I could type and get some work done.
ReplyDeleteOh how I wish there were more trains still running in Africa. Like the Lunatic Line from Mombasa to Lake Victoria. I ‘d be on that one in a heartbeat.
Interesting, but not surprising, sis, how you'd feel so at home on the Lunatic Line.
DeleteOn Sunday mornings, at an age where I should have been confined to a rear car seat (but there weren't even seat belts then), my father used to drive beside the railroad tracks passing through Pittsburgh's river valleys, until finding a train. Then we'd drive alongside the engine while the engineer would wave to me and blow his horn. I still remember those days, and even now, there is no more calming sound for me than that of a train clacking along the rails in the middle of the night. Thanks for the memory moment, Stan.
ReplyDeleteFascinating photos of the train and terrain and beautiful music.
ReplyDelete