In the low afternoon sunshine, we travelled all the way to Cunderdin. Meredith and Kim were offering us hospitality for the night. Dobby the dog greeted us, startlingly bald on his rear end. He'd developed an unfortunate skin condition and had been shaved. We felt for him. Baring his bum on cold mornings was a definite test of his endurance.
Their guest bedroom contained a bed straight from "The Princess and the Pea". Consisting of two mattresses (for convenience of storage), I almost required a rocket launcher to breach the height. Which we soon did. After a delicious dinner, a lot of laughter and brisk conversation we retired to the bedroom. I felt like Jack climbing the beanstalk.
A combination of a strange bed, an early start and a rendezvous with the Prospector made for a restless night. We were up at sparrow fart. Kim was already preparing a cooked breakfast prior to starting his work day. Meredith was dropping us at the station before work. The morning was bitterly cold and we watched the frost melting on their verandah roof, dripping steadily like an unexpected sun shower.
With enough gear for the Antartic, Meredith dropped us at the station. This consisted of the platform, a covered area with a bin, a cheery message that the train wouldn't stop unless we were booked passengers and a metal bench. We chose not to sit on the bench, fearing we may freeze permanently on that spot. Instead, we amused ourselves warming up in the sun and watching the pigeons on the silo roof.
The Prospector duly arrived. And stopped for us. We loaded ourselves and the bags onto the train and procured our booked seats. The train was moving again before we had found storage places for all our luggage. Then we settled in for the ride.
We really enjoyed this trip. The train travelled to the north of the Great Eastern Highway once we left the Wheatbelt behind. The Goldfields woodland was stunning. Water was everywhere. The wildflower season this year promises to be extraordinary. And we gazed upon parts of the glorious bush we had not ever seen. An absolute treat.
And we watched movies and followed the route on the entertainment system in front of each seat. The buffet was basic but the staff were accommodating and helpful. Driver Cam was a bit of a disappointment, as the images were delayed. We were highly amused to view the Prospector idling at a station, whereas we were actually hurtling onwards towards our destination.
We arrived in Kalgoorlie mid afternoon. We waited for some time for a taxi. The amiable driver moaned that there was always a shortage when the train and plane arrived simultaneously in the hub of the Goldfields.
Arriving at our digs, we settled in. The room was delightful, ground floor and overlooking the garden and the pool. There were children squawking and splashing in the pool. We deduced the water must have been heated.
After a pleasant dinner at the hotel bistro, we retired to bed. We were exhausted. Again a new bed and very efficient heating disturbed our sleep somewhat. We did not rise early.
After debating whether to spend all day in the spa bath, we were driven outwards, warmly dressed, for a very late breakfast. We had been given a car for the duration by Michael's old friend and former work colleague, Wayne. A Boulder boy, he was good humoured, quick witted and very generous. The car was a late model Honda and spotless internally.
We chose to explore Boulder first. Finding a delightful cafe, Blaze, in the old Fire Station, was the first bonus of the day. Opened for two years, Blaze was warm, inviting and offered good food and great coffee. Even though we arrived officially after breakfast had ended, they were totally obliging of my need for Eggs Benedict. And they allowed us to pinch a copy of the Kalgoorlie Miner newspaper. We intend to patronise Blaze again before we leave.
After a walk up and down the main drag, Burt Street, photographing the wonderful old buildings, we hesitated about going elsewhere. Boulder had been hit hard by an earthquake in 2010, but there were no remaining signs of the havoc wreaked that day. We loved the atmosphere. Perhaps not as hip and savvy as neighbouring Kalgoorlie, Boulder had a gentler charm we were thoroughly enjoying.
We decided to give the Loopline Railway Museum in the old train station a go, Some museums have a tendency to bore me to tears and encourage me to become comatose. Not the Loopline. Inside the reception and giftshop, Vicky, the ever helpful front-of-house, charged us a measly two dollars for entry. We were captivated. The Museum told the story of the railway that had operated around Boulder and up to Kalgoorlie, prior to the line and half of Boulder being swallowed by the Super Pit. We spent a delighted hour or so there, bought a map and a book of "Old Kalgoorlie", along with oodles of free material. Michael chatted with the museum crew. The museum is a work in progress, with more exhibits being restored in their very large workshops. We look forward to returning.
A touch of banking, fifteen minutes of shopping in Coles for essential nibbles and drinks and we went in search of decent and less expensive dinner than at the hotel. Michael was enthusiastic about asking at the Kalgoorlie Tourist Information. Seven years ago, he would have entered most reluctantly. Now, he bolted through the door to peruse its treasures.
We settled on a local cafe, Manna Thai, for dinner that had been recommended by the staff. We picked up more free brochures and bought another book about the Goldfields woodlines. Michael was beyond ecstatic. With an hour to kill before the restaurant opened, Michael offered to take me to Williamstown, a very old area of Kalgoorlie-Boulder than may have predated the towns themselves.
With his exceptional memory, we found this little enclave with no difficulty. Williamstown was for the fringe dwellers, who obviously had no desire to be part of the Big Smoke. Original miners' cottages jostled for position with the odd new house, usually constructed from corrugated iron. Peeking into the backyards was an additional treat. There were treasure troves of items waiting for recycling. Then we couldn't help ourselves. In the fading light, we parked in an area that had been abandoned and started fossicking. A pair of kangaroos, one with a joey, watched us in silent curiosity. Even though Williamstown must have been picked over time and time again, we each scored a couple of delectable items. And we photographed. Then the loss of light forced us to leave this fantastic location, oozing with the echoes of history. Another place we vowed to return.
We picked up our Thai and a bottle of vino and retired to our room for the night. We were over the moon with our day's experiences. And I doubted if we would be slacking around the hotel the following day either!
Stay tuned.
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