Avoid the hassles of the road and go to Cape Town by rail
Angus Begg
I have a friend living near Johannesburg who booked on the Trans-Karoo’s new luxury version – Premier Classe – for a journey to Cape Town. Her search for the promised “Africa of a bygone era” took some work.
Her difficulty in booking the R2E400 return ticket began in trying to make a reservation. To get someone to answer the phone at Spoornet was her first obstacle She was put through to countless people at the Johannesburg and Germiston offices, where she wasn’t allowed to make a credit- card payment over the phone or even send an office messenger with a cheque.
She ended up driving to both Spoornet offices, where on complaining about the run-around and asking for the manager, she was told he “wouldn’t speak with her”. I listened with interest as I prepared to give the train a test run.
After making my way through the hordes of yellow-vested “crime watchers” to the main area at Johannesburg’s Park station, I discovered the escalator to the platform wasn’t working, leaving the option of the 30-odd steep stairs. “Bit rough if someone has a broken leg?” I put to the seated attendant. He shrugged.
But I knew it was going to get better. After all, that’s the magic of travel by train – someone else does the driving while you live an easy and lethargic 24 hours, gently rocking and swaying, with a bit of reading in between, down the tracks to your destination.
By a traveller’s rights a journey through the Karoo should be a treasured experience, but long, dangerous roads, harsh daylight and intense ambient temperatures tend to snatch such pleasure from the motorist. Here lies the allure of travel on the Trans-Karoo.
The trip is roughly a 24-hour overnight journey, the train passing through many of those tiny places that the N1 successfully buried under rocks and karoo scrub, pausing at some and easing through others. This is the magic of such travel, and surely a return to the notion that the holiday starts with the journey.
“We’ve been doing it for years,” says Jules Schneid, a project manager in the construction industry who’s just returned from “training” around Europe and on his way to a two-month holiday in Cape Town with his wife, Arlene. “We used to take our dogs in first class but they’re not allowed here now, so we fly them down,” says Arlene.
Once out of the urban conurbation south of Johannesburg and past Krugersdorp station, the Trans-Karoo settles into a rhythm, heading for Potchefstroom and the long night.
The service in Premier Classe is friendly and efficient, led by one who carries the title of passenger assistant. Millie Stander’s his name, and he’s the proud owner of a southern Cape brei. A bespectacled and moustachioed native of Wilderness who’s been working on trains for 22 years, Millie fills water jugs, mops up spills in the corridor and makes up the beds for the night.
Unfortunately dinner didn’t serve up the “best of South African cuisine” as promised in the PR blurb, carrots arriving in thickly sweet orange sauce reminding me more of the SABC canteen than the fare served up in the Anton van Wouw restaurant or Leipoldt’s, those Johannesburg purveyors of excellent local cuisine. The brandy pudding was delicious, breakfast highly enjoyable and lunch much the same as dinner.
The staff in Premier Classe, however, have to be commended for their flexibility: their willingness to get your desire from the bar and kitchen (within reason) at any time was never in question (those intent on stuffing themselves would do well to know that beyond the three meals, morning and “high” tea – comprising the unusual combination of cakes, biltong and cheese and crackers – is also served).
Being rocked to sleep by the motion of the train was almost worth the fare in itself, especially when followed by an early rising in time to catch Beaufort West station just touched by the sun. A major junction, Beaufort West is a long stop, and 45 minutes later, after the driver’s stretched his legs and country folk in shorts and long socks have said goodbye to their loved ones, the journey resumes.
A little way on, activity stirs in little dwellings just back from the road, ostriches get their morning feed from men in blue overalls and long, articulated removal trucks blast their way past.
Stations like Leeu-Gamka, Matjiesfontein and Palmiet ease up on one side of the track, the stations announced by black print on large, white signs while bakkies and German sedans jostle with the trucks for their bits of tar on the other.
Saloon cars bursting with children and beach gear speed past sheep searching among the scrub, and the Great Karoo, with its mountain-fringed horizon, is seen in an altogether different and unusual light – no tired eyes or oppressive heat, and sipping on whatever your choice is in an air-conditioned carriage.
A windmill, a rundown shack and an irrigated green field are thrown up by the passing countryside as a postcard, while a snotty child in pigtails and a pink dress chases the train. A lone ostrich pecks at the ground and stares. The Trans-Karoo has just passed through Letjiesbos, destination: Cape Town.
“Come and see us on Clifton,” say the Schneids, inviting me to their beach house. Happy after their trip – “absolutely wonderful”, says Jules – smiling and relaxed, they’re hoping the Premier Classe makes a go of it.
Bookings for the Trans-Karoo can be made at (011) 773-7646