City of Curches to the splintered mountain

 Another nights fitful sleep, whilst the tracks were a bit smoother as we trundled across the desert noth of the Gulf the cabin movement still had no rhythm and a cacophony of various noises. It was still pitch black when the announcement for breakfast was made at 6:30am. It was a light one as all those continuing past Adelaide were off into town for another  Off Train experience.

They split the train in two in order to fit all the carriages next to platforms and saying goodbye to the crew who were heading home for their week off we were herded onto a bunch of busses and promptly drove into a traffic jam. Nice reminder that civilization and all its foibles is never that far away. Eventually we got to the other side of town and alighted for a walking tour of the area with dark clouds threatening in the distance. Saw lots of statutes of past important folk. Some of them just their heads.

Just like Rome except one suspects this time it was on purpose. As we wandered down the war memorial to the parade grounds stopping to admire the fancy brick work on the old buildings it got darker and more threatening. Timing was sort of ok though as by the time we got inside the Adelaide Oval (where the cricketers cricket and the footballers fly) we had only been in the downpour for a minute or two.

Upstairs we were presented with a sumptuous spread where we got to meet some other travelers from other sections of the long carrier. The coffee and milk dispenser lids had not been screwed down tightly and had pretty much ruined our side of the table before we figured it out. Suspect a discontented staff member is currently sitting at home laughing with their colleagues that they'd got another one.

Back to the reconfigured silver beast was much quicker as the kids were now in school. The cabin now faces the wrong direction, we are down the back and are being pulled by two locos. Apparently we have some hills to climb up ahead.
After another gourmet lunch there was the onboard singer rolling through the the old faves in the lounge followed by special guest from Broken Hill who led us through a round of Drag Black Russian Bingo.

Well Blogger was drinking a Black Russian. The rest was up to her/him. After dropping her/him off at the faulty mountain the train headed off into the winding tracks eastwards which felt like the Tunnel Creek Road. Must be cut up by the heavy metal carriers heading to the eastern ports. Having our last supper as the sun set over the huge lake was very pleasant. Pity the whole spectactular visa being captured in real time out the cabin window was curtailed by the staff who made up the room and shut the blinds. Sometimes it's obviously difficult to get good help.

Not sure how such a big lake exists out this far west...possibly due to the recent rains. So last night on the silver beast. Could be a wild ride.