Dear Mum,
You're all about the "experience," so here are my experiences thus far:
=> Strathfield station at 6:30am is cold
=> Fruit and muesli is a healthy breakfast
=> Toilets on CountryLink trains are the main cause of motion sickness.
No joke. Three hours into our journey I took a trip to the loo. I needed to movie my legs and though, 'why not?' The brochure at our seats informs me that:
Our trains can travel up to 120km/h and you may experience sideways movement on curves. This is quite normal, but, when walking through the train, please make use of the handrails in passageways where provided.
It's a good (read: EXCELLENT) idea to visit the ladies' (actually, they're unisex...) when the train is on a straight. Good luck though, there are a lot of turns.
So now my head feels a little woozy, on top of everything else (not the least of which is the inadequate armrests). I retain my good mood, however the shiny new toy feeling has definitely worn off. We're just past Dungog, for the betting folks.
The scenery is still gorgeous. Lots of greens and browns and occasionally water. I haven't taken any photos because i was eating and then doing puzzles in the newspaper. Samurai Sudoku is a bit of a challenge (that's me, refraining from speaking to soon and saying it's easy).
Toorah!
Sara
P.S. I brought my house keys with me?
Monday, July 27, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Grafton - 19th July 2009 (8am)
Dear Mum,
I've decided to write my travel diary to you. This will give me better focus than a simple "Dear Diary" or a made up pen-pal =]
The CountryLink experience is still bright and shiny. The world looks very pretty out the window and my 1000mm of leg room has been taken up by a backpack (the food bag, as I've dubbed it).
Current betting has my enthusiasm wearing off before Broadmeadow.
We're running at least 10 minutes late; the driver did something with the brakes at North Strathfield.
Nonna says "Hi."
This may sound foolishly optimistic, but I could probably watch the scenery go by for the whole ten hour trip. See, if I'd gotten a decent night's sleep, I'd get bored with the scenery. As it is, Nonna's house is an ice-box at the best of times and blankets cannot really compete against cold cotton sheets. I was awake before my alarm went off at 5:20 this morning.
Speaking of which, this morning was one of the few times where almost everything magically falls into place. My alarm sounded; I got up and walked to the door; Nonna's alarm sounded; we said good morning; I made my way to the loo; Zio Aldo called. Life was good.
We've arrived at Hornsby and are about to have our tickets checked.
Or not... whatever, I'll let you know when our tickets are checked.
Nonna thinks I could write all day. And she's worrying about which seat is the window and which is the aisle. Doesn't really matter with the two of us.
Nonna made a joke!
Nonna: Penso che se ne andato. (about the man checking tickets)
Sara: We'll wait then.
Nonna: Dove andiamo?
*laughter*
And our tickets are now checked!
By for now,
Sara
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Tranlsation of Nonna's joke:
N: I think he's gone.
S: We'll wait then.
N: We're not going anywhere.
I've decided to write my travel diary to you. This will give me better focus than a simple "Dear Diary" or a made up pen-pal =]
The CountryLink experience is still bright and shiny. The world looks very pretty out the window and my 1000mm of leg room has been taken up by a backpack (the food bag, as I've dubbed it).
Current betting has my enthusiasm wearing off before Broadmeadow.
We're running at least 10 minutes late; the driver did something with the brakes at North Strathfield.
Nonna says "Hi."
This may sound foolishly optimistic, but I could probably watch the scenery go by for the whole ten hour trip. See, if I'd gotten a decent night's sleep, I'd get bored with the scenery. As it is, Nonna's house is an ice-box at the best of times and blankets cannot really compete against cold cotton sheets. I was awake before my alarm went off at 5:20 this morning.
Speaking of which, this morning was one of the few times where almost everything magically falls into place. My alarm sounded; I got up and walked to the door; Nonna's alarm sounded; we said good morning; I made my way to the loo; Zio Aldo called. Life was good.
We've arrived at Hornsby and are about to have our tickets checked.
Or not... whatever, I'll let you know when our tickets are checked.
Nonna thinks I could write all day. And she's worrying about which seat is the window and which is the aisle. Doesn't really matter with the two of us.
Nonna made a joke!
Nonna: Penso che se ne andato. (about the man checking tickets)
Sara: We'll wait then.
Nonna: Dove andiamo?
*laughter*
And our tickets are now checked!
By for now,
Sara
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Tranlsation of Nonna's joke:
N: I think he's gone.
S: We'll wait then.
N: We're not going anywhere.
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