Friday 9 July
I arrive at Cape Town train station in reasonable time which is just as well as every man and his friend are lining up to board. To make matters more hectic, it seems as though the majority are travelling with all their life possessions.
Having moved seats about three times I settle down for my lengthy journey near some Chileans, who all tell me Holland are certain to win in Sunday's final, as we wave goodbye to Cape Town and Table mountain, in particular.
After just thirty minutes or so we reach our first stop which is quite early for a 27 hour journey, at this rate we will stop 54 times (I did the maths). The stop is Bellville which sounds quaint and peaceful which are not words I would use to describe the scenario as more people and luggage are squeezed onto the train, much of it squeezed through windows as the train is threatening to depart.
An hour later I decide to have my first stab at sleeping - I failed miserably The young lad who sat next to me is pleasant enough but he is fidgety and this does not help me rest.
By mid-day, and half a dozen stops later, there is not a spare seat in site, and this remains the case for the rest of the trip.
As the sun begins to set the Chileans kindly invite me along to dinner in the dining car. The food leaves a lot to be desired, which is being kind. I barely touch the chicken and there is something that is a poor imitation of mash potato. Disgusting. Nice sunset, though, and the company was good too.
I had a couple of beers and flexed my linguistic muscles further - I never thought I would improve my Spanish as I embarked the train.
I ask for a third beer but we are about to stop for 30-60 minutes and so am prevented from having one.
There is a little hole in the wall which I later realise is a shop, selling crisps, chocolate etc. As I queue for some goodies there is plenty of argy-bargy. Eventually I reach the front but they have run out of crisps and chocolate so slope off with my tail between my legs, and still hungry.
Race back onto the train. This time, to much amusement, there seems to be more people than seats. I say amusement, I wouldn't be laughing if I didn't have a seat but I did so it was bloody hilarious. Some pairs of seats had about four or five children squeezed on them. One child thinks better of it and decides to climb up onto the luggage rail. Innovative.
The train is now at a snails pace, if I said Terry and Upson were more mobile then I think you would have a pretty good idea of how painstakingly slow it was.
After a few more beers the concert begins. Yes, a concert. Teenage girls begin singing and dancing African songs at around mid-night. The rhythm, the excitement, the enthusiasm - it's great. It's not to everyone's taste, though, as I look at a middle-aged mother with her eyes closed whilst her young son massages her head. She has a pained expression which I think is caused by the commotion and not the massage.
It's now 3am and the singing and dancing comes to an end, but the chatter does not and it continues all the way to Johannesburg, with the lights on throughout.
I arrive at Cape Town train station in reasonable time which is just as well as every man and his friend are lining up to board. To make matters more hectic, it seems as though the majority are travelling with all their life possessions.
Having moved seats about three times I settle down for my lengthy journey near some Chileans, who all tell me Holland are certain to win in Sunday's final, as we wave goodbye to Cape Town and Table mountain, in particular.
After just thirty minutes or so we reach our first stop which is quite early for a 27 hour journey, at this rate we will stop 54 times (I did the maths). The stop is Bellville which sounds quaint and peaceful which are not words I would use to describe the scenario as more people and luggage are squeezed onto the train, much of it squeezed through windows as the train is threatening to depart.
An hour later I decide to have my first stab at sleeping - I failed miserably The young lad who sat next to me is pleasant enough but he is fidgety and this does not help me rest.
By mid-day, and half a dozen stops later, there is not a spare seat in site, and this remains the case for the rest of the trip.
As the sun begins to set the Chileans kindly invite me along to dinner in the dining car. The food leaves a lot to be desired, which is being kind. I barely touch the chicken and there is something that is a poor imitation of mash potato. Disgusting. Nice sunset, though, and the company was good too.
I had a couple of beers and flexed my linguistic muscles further - I never thought I would improve my Spanish as I embarked the train.
I ask for a third beer but we are about to stop for 30-60 minutes and so am prevented from having one.
There is a little hole in the wall which I later realise is a shop, selling crisps, chocolate etc. As I queue for some goodies there is plenty of argy-bargy. Eventually I reach the front but they have run out of crisps and chocolate so slope off with my tail between my legs, and still hungry.
Race back onto the train. This time, to much amusement, there seems to be more people than seats. I say amusement, I wouldn't be laughing if I didn't have a seat but I did so it was bloody hilarious. Some pairs of seats had about four or five children squeezed on them. One child thinks better of it and decides to climb up onto the luggage rail. Innovative.
The train is now at a snails pace, if I said Terry and Upson were more mobile then I think you would have a pretty good idea of how painstakingly slow it was.
After a few more beers the concert begins. Yes, a concert. Teenage girls begin singing and dancing African songs at around mid-night. The rhythm, the excitement, the enthusiasm - it's great. It's not to everyone's taste, though, as I look at a middle-aged mother with her eyes closed whilst her young son massages her head. She has a pained expression which I think is caused by the commotion and not the massage.
It's now 3am and the singing and dancing comes to an end, but the chatter does not and it continues all the way to Johannesburg, with the lights on throughout.
