Sydney/Canberra, November 8: Train ride and getting started

While making plans this summer I researched the best way to get from Sydney to Canberra. The options were renting a car (that was out), an hour-long flight, or a four-hour train ride. 

Hmm... train ride.

This was the eighth day of a 20-day vacation. We had already been on five flights, with another seven ahead of us. A relaxing train ride sounded almost romantic.

At least until I told Aussies what I had planned. One could not imagine a train in the center of Canberra (turns out it is on the outskirts, so he was right). Another said the trains were decrepit (I would describe it as dated or even vintage, but not decrepit). 

After Don's accident, the train was the right call. It was only a tram stop away (pre-accident, it was close enough to walk to), no hassles to board, and there was much more legroom. The large windows gave us a glimpse into what Australian life is like between metropolises.  

I did have, what I call "American stress" about the train ride. While my receipt had a train number, and told me where our assigned seats were located, there was no bar code or anything that made it look like a ticket. More like a suggestion. I even visited the ticket office, where they gave me another sheet of paper that did not contain a barcode. When I take the hour-long train ride into New York City I have an official looking ticket, or a barcode on an app. When I questioned it I was given the Australian response "no worries." 

With a deep breath I boarded the train. After we left the station, the conductor
walked down the aisle and called to each person by name, at which time they confirmed they were in the right seat. He did not ask to see identification, or ask us to identify our name to compare with his list. This might have been my most foreign experience. That and we left our suitcase on the rack by the door without any concerns that it might not be there when we finished our travels.

As Don's right leg could not bend, I had the window seat. I used much of the time to blog about the past couple of days of the trip. Much more space than on an airplane.

There were three cars on the train. None of which I would describe as "First Class," but all clean and basic.

Not all the options
were available

The train had a barebones café. I had a yogurt and tea for breakfast. Don had tea and a muffin. The woman ahead of me walked with a cane. Before I could offer to carry her tea to her seat, the steward had asked her seat number, handed her order to his assistant, and it was delivered without fuss. "No worries." This front car also had the only bathroom on the train.

The metal tray table comes with a hole just the right size for a disposable cup to keep it steady as we ride the rails.

Back to my notes. The day was bright ad cheerful. The windows gave us great views of the countryside, the suburbs, cows, horses, and even a kangaroo placed to remind us we were not in the United States. 

Stops were quick, and announced with enough time for people to grab their bags and disembark. The stations all look clean. They feel like tiny steps back in time.

As we traveled outside the towns, the train picked up some speed. I watched a calf dash to his mama. The entire ride was tranquil.

I also noted all of the seats faced forward. Conversations were kept soft.

Before I knew it, we arrived at the final station. I never feel this peaceful after a four-hour flight. 

We quickly learned why people were surprised when we said we were going to Canberra. Especially when we said we were taking the TRAIN to Canberra. 

Canberra is the capitol of Australia. Similar to how the North and South disagreed where our new nation's capitol should be located, Melbourne and Sydney each thought they should be Australia's capitol city. The solution was to create a new city in-between the two and call it Canberra. The name Canberra is the Aboriginal word for "meeting place."

The train station is nowhere near downtown. At first glance, it is nowhere near ANYTHING. Directions on how to get to downtown were to walk across the parking lot to a covered bench with a sign saying the bus comes a few times a day. 

Hmmm...

Google maps said to go through the parking lot, cross a four-lane road (no traffic light or crosswalk) and wait for the bus there. I herd a group of people to that stop, only to find out the bus first went to the bench in the parking lot. No worries, we were on our way via a 20-minute bus ride.

The bus stopped on a main road. Directions said we still had a 15-minute walk to the hotel (which would be longer with luggage and Don's leg). A German Australian said Canberra was designed for five million people (hence the wide roads and space), but less than 500,000 live in it (hence the lack of mass transit). The bus dropped us off next to a rail line going in the direction of the hotel. Why didn't Google Maps point us in that direction? The line was new, sporadic, and we would only be on it for a stop. 

Hmmm...

Every city in the world has different rules about mass transit. The options are often buying a single ticket for each ride, buying a card that you then fill with a random amount of money, or you use your credit card to tap on/tap off each time you ride. The last option is clearly most tourist-friendly. Sydney has this option. Melbourne has the second option (both cities cap at a certain amount each day, making the random amount less intimidating). In September, Canberra started switching from option two to option three. By early November they had not yet finished making the transition so all transit rides were free. Anytime we had troubles with mass transit, we reminded us at least it was free.

We arrived at the hotel around noon. It was a former apartment building in the process of being converted into a hotel. Or something like that. It was an odd layout. We were on the first floor (American second) in a handicap room that I booked over the summer. Foreshadowing? Did I anticipate issues or did I simply book the cheapest room? The hall floors sloped. In the center was a sunken common room with couches and hardwood floors. I have no idea what its purpose was! Fortunately it had a laundry room where we could wash our clothes for free. As we had less plans that we did back in Uluru, we had time for the dryer to spend nearly 90 minutes drying our clothes. Dear hotels: when your washing machines only take 20 minutes to do a load, and your dryers take four times as long to dry, a backlog is created. Consider adding more dryers, or at least drying racks.

The young guy at the front desk recommended an Afghan restaurant a couple of blocks away. It was one of the best meals we had on vacation. 

As we walked towards the bus line, Don noticed a Paddy Pallin, basically the REI of Australia. Walking around their city location felt like an REI, but without the bicycles. If we ever moved to Australia, I know where Don would want to work.

We boarded a bus to take it two long stops away to University, and a long walk uphill to the botanical garden. Each interaction with mass transit reinforces the city is not tourist friendly. If you do decide to go, rent a car. The roads are wide and seem easy to navigate. Or do as we ended up doing, count on taking Ubers.