Australia’s own Baz Luhrmann with a train carriage designed for Belmond British Pullman. And then the SouthernXplorer. Photo: Belmond, John Coleman.
No Canberran aboard the train to Sydney wants it to go faster. Sometimes we just wish it would go.
The SouthernXplorer service runs three times a day and has just secured $100 million in funding; $50 million from the Commonwealth and $25 million each from the ACT and NSW. Some of this will be spent promptly on fixing stuff that’s always breaking.
A chunk of the rest of the $100 million will be spent on a business case to see how the service can be made faster.
But speed is not the problem.
If we wanted a faster trip for roughly the same price, we’d take the bus. Murrays buses leave Canberra every waking hour. The obliging free market has even introduced a rival, FlixBus. It is usually possible to be sitting in Civic and go “yeah this is boring, let’s hit Sydney” and be on the next coach into the sunset.
Of course the bus doesn’t connect all the hamlets enroute, but Goulburn has a bus to Canberra and I refuse to believe anyone in Bowral is in a hurry.
An unusually-empty service paused at Bowral Station. Photo: John Coleman.
No, Canberrans take the train because – in the words of lurid Sydneysider and film auteur Baz Luhrmann – “there’s an undeniable magic and romance” to “slow” train travel.
And a few years ago, I defended the train on those grounds. But like all first impressions, it was both true and lacking.
First, the train’s greatest strength – the buffet – is a shambles.
Some staff open it when the train is … I was going to say gently hissing at the platform, because the rolling stock is almost that old. Dripping at the platform. This approach means passengers can amble to the buffet, gather snacks and sauv blanc, and settle into their seat. But other staff open it an hour into the journey, with an announcement that guarantees 30 people all cram Car A at once and block the route to the toilet for First passengers.
A First car problem? Seniors get discounted First tickets so it could be your grandfather.
Shuttered up. Photo: John Coleman.
The buffet often randomly shuts. Sometimes it’s to “allow staff to have a scheduled break” but if four people take a break at the same time isn’t that a stop-work? I’ve yet to hear “due to unexpected turbulence, we are temporarily closing the buffet in Car A” but I am listening for it.
The menu lacks creative vision. You can get packaged snacks and a selection of packaged hot meals which take an hour to cook. When these are ready it is announced to the whole train, rather than staggering the announcement per carriage – or class. So again, Car A is rushed and your grandfather can’t get to the toilet.
The coffee is hot water in a cardboard cup and a sachet of coffee.
Was anything here built in your lifetime? Discuss. Photo: John Coleman.
The announcements can be out of control. Sometimes they’re delightfully threatening: “If you consume your own alcohol, or are unruly, or vape in the toilets, or strip down to your underwear and gyrate in the aisle, or pull out a bong we WILL put you off at the next station and the police may be involved.” I exaggerate only slightly.
It follows that some staff enjoy the PA: “This train terminates … at Canberra … which will be our final stop.” Can you spot the tautology? Do people often buy a ticket for a Sydney-Canberra train and expect it to plunge through the Kingston Foreshore?
“Please keep your cardboard tray throughout the journey for all orders and do not return it to us. We will not accept it.” I adore PA announcements that go off script and show personality, but the caveat is that the personality can’t be more officious and meaningless than the script. No-one in the history of cardboard trays has tried to return one. I would understand “please don’t chuck it on the station roof”.
Of course the staff are generally very pleasant. Recently one with huge arm beads and glasses that Elton left in Lost Property mimicked a highwayman when he was coming through the carriage with the rubbish bag: “Wallets! Jewellery!”. As with anything mediocre, free spirits can make all the difference.
Which brings me back to Baz Luhrmann.
He and his partner Catherine Martin have designed a gorgeous dining car for Belmond British Pullman, which they envision as “a magical mystery tour; a travelling dining experience with friends, filled with food, music, wine, laughter and performance, all unfolding while you drift through the countryside, as if you’ve stepped inside A Midsummer Night’s Dream“.
The SouthernXplorer drifts through the countryside. You can sip wine. I have had excellent conversations in Car A and eavesdropped on many others.
All that remains is A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
This is where the $100 million comes in. Use it to fix the stuff that’s always breaking – if Canberrans wanted to take an apologetic coach to Sydney we would have booked one to start with and been there hours before.
But then forget the business case for speed and spend the moolah getting Baz and Catherine to look at the curtains, Neil Perry to look at the menu, me to look into tobacco-hue blazers and navy ties for all the staff – and the rest on baristas and mixologists.
No-one with a martini ever complained about one more hour.
