Life Onboard The Ghan | Dream by Luxury Escapes

Taking a trip on The Ghan, on the train line that cuts straight through Australia’s Red Centre, I didn’t expect to travel through time. But that’s exactly how it feels on a day excursion as I drift along the gentle waters of the Katherine River in Nitmiluk Gorge.

In a landscape formed millions of years ago, rust-coloured sandstone bluffs rise from the river in every direction. The serpentine path through the gorge winds past jagged precipices that drop straight into the water, interrupted only by the occasional beach with sun-baked golden sands.

It’s my first day aboard The Ghan and, just hours after settling into my private cabin, our tour group has already disembarked the train to explore one of the most spectacular natural wonders in Australia’s Top End. I’ve spent the past few hours watching the scenery skip by from the comfort of the train, where trees and desert shrubbery cover the mostly flat land, punctuated by the occasional hill.

Up close, however, the landscape is markedly different. I thought the Outback would feel empty. Instead, the whole area is brimming with colour and life. Thriving greenery rises from the river, snaking its way up the canyon walls and blanketing the top of the gorge in a crown of rich emerald. Tiny finches flit from branch to branch, while snow-white egrets fly overhead looking for their next meal.

The ancient landscape feels ageless and unchanging, suspended in time. And as I return to the train, that feeling doesn’t fade.

The Ghan boasts a sense of timeless luxury. In my cabin, a jazzy tune plays from the private radio, transporting me to a simpler age as the world whips by outside. Narrow wood-panelled hallways lead me through each train car on my way to the lounge, where plush seats line the walls and a fully stocked bar sits at the helm of the carriage.

Although I hear rumours of Wi-Fi in the lounge, the signal never quite arrives, and I find I don’t mind once I’m nestled away in my cabin. Disconnected from the world, it’s easy to imagine that I’ve stepped back through years of history.

The Cameleers’ Legacy

While the train boasts an upgraded journey well suited to the modern era, the path The Ghan traverses today wasn’t always so seamless. The history of the train dates back to 1838, when the first Afghan cameleers arrived in South Australia with a plan to explore its untamed interior.

Camels were the ideal creatures to venture into Central Australia, transporting goods, water, tools and equipment to remote towns. When the Commonwealth committed to the construction of a rail line between Adelaide and Darwin in 1911, camels were crucial in helping to develop the infrastructure and construct the rail lines.

Day two aboard The Ghan brings the train’s history to life in a very tangible way: with a camel ride.

Desert Drift

After Shadow’s ancestors played their crucial role in laying the groundwork for the railway routes we travel today, The Ghan set off on its first journey in 1929, from Adelaide Railway Station to what is now Alice Springs. However, the portion of the track connecting Alice Springs to Darwin wasn’t completed until 2004.

For those wanting to explore the Outback before the train tracks were completed, there were few options available but that did not deter some adventurers.

“You know, Valerie did this trip on a Vespa in 1963,” says my lunch companion offhandedly. I’m shocked; the terrain rolling past the window next to our table hardly looks suitable for a four-wheel-drive, much less a cutesy Italian scooter.

But 62 years ago – over 40 years before the train tracks from Alice Springs to Darwin were completed – Valerie braved this very same desert with a travel companion and a scooter.

Over tangy buffalo curry and a sweet mango parfait, Valerie regales us with tales of her trip. She explains that at that time the landscape was so desolate that she had to point the front of the parked scooter in the direction she wanted to go in the morning while making camp at night, lest she lose herself in the endless wilderness. Valerie fondly recalls losing a tyre on her Vespa and having to replace it with a wheelbarrow wheel. The trip took several dangerous weeks.

Our journey today couldn’t be more different. Each night, I retire to my room and sip my glass of port – my choice from a menu of nightcaps offered on arrival. Each morning, I lift the blinds of my window and am greeted by a symphony of pinks, blues and oranges.

The train rumbles into stops in the heart of country towns, and we disembark on adventures, from the towering rust-coloured walls of the 80-metre high Standley Chasm to the sprawling network of Coober Pedy’s mines and underground houses.

When Valerie tells a particularly cringe-inducing story of camping next to a crocodile-infested river – momentarily forgetting about the danger of the creatures in favour of taking a bath in the croc-filled waters – I can confidently say that I much prefer my experience aboard The Ghan.

“His name is Shadow,” the guide says, as I carefully swing my foot into the stirrup, maneuvering myself into position just behind the camel’s hump. I slot my other foot into the remaining stirrup and off we go, experiencing a form of transport that has long since been abandoned, with the setting sun slowly casting Alice Springs’ Old Telegraph Station into darkness.

I take in the scenery, now illuminated by a soft amber glow, as my trusty ride, Shadow, ambles back to the platform, allowing me to disembark.

The rumbling train has brought us to a dinner at what was once the centre of communication not just across Australia, but all the way to the British Empire. Tonight, however, we’re not dining in the old buildings. Instead, tables have been set up under the stars, complete with white tablecloths, bottles of wine and centrepieces comprising native flowers.

With the Milky Way blinking down on us, clear and shining in the near-darkness, our night off the train feels like a celebration. I chat with my travel companions, clinking together glasses of wine and bubbles to the tune of a live band.

All the while, the food seems never-ending: kangaroo chile con carne, Black Angus sirloin cooked medium rare alongside a tender chicken roulade, lemon myrtle panna cotta with a raspberry puree, and a cheeseboard heaped with fruits and crackers to finish.

After an evening of laughter, music and s’mores made over an open fire, I head back to the comfort of the train, tossing a quick wave to Shadow on my way.

All Aboard

Travelling on The Ghan has me wishing I lived in an age where the locomotive was still the primary form of travel, impractical as that may be. At each stop, however, the magic is temporarily broken as we disembark the train and reconnect to cell service to explore Australia’s centre. Our last stop before we reach Adelaide, however, departs from the norm.

On the final night of our journey, the train rolls to a halt at South Australia’s Manguri rail siding. Red sand littered with shrubbery meets the horizon in every direction. If not for the small platform and collection of picnic tables arranged next to the train, it’s entirely reasonable to imagine that we’ve stepped off the train and onto the plains of Mars.

In keeping with the Ghan’s “want for nothing” approach, Manguri is the perfect place to enjoy evening drinks and canapés. As I sip my glass of red, I can’t help but marvel at the landscape.

It’s the only time we’ve been able to appreciate the uninterrupted beauty of the desert while off the moving train, and I take the opportunity to reflect on the journey. While The Ghan is made for modern indulgence, most of the landscapes we visit along the way are ancient – timeless and largely unchanging, at least in our lifetimes.

My first adventure into the heart of Australia has been pampered and effortless, and I’m thrilled to have explored such a rugged country with refined ease. The same landscapes traversed by brave cameleers in the 1800s, the same sands Valerie explored in 1963, are waiting to be explored, albeit with a few more creature comforts. I may not be brave enough to delve into the wilderness on my own, but the Outback has captured my heart all the same.

This feature was originally published in Issue 8 of Dream by Luxury Escapes. Photography by George Fettering.