The columnist having a reflective moment on the train. — PSC
I am lying at this moment on a little couch on the lower berth of a bunk bed on The Ghan train, feeling every vibration. The rhythm of the rumbling rail track reverberate in my ears, as if Earth is mumbling a message.
The world is flying past me outside the windows, a barren and uninhabited wilderness with rose-coloured charred earth. Occasionally, a kangaroo or two will hop past.
