Australian Town and Country Journal at KellyGang 25/6/1870
A Trip to Goulburn
The winter is certainly not the time one would choose for going into the cold country, and if it's disagreeable in ordinary seasons to journey south at mid-winter, how much more so must it be when as at present the country is suffering a recovery from the devastating consequences of floods. The night trip to Goulburn, leaving Sydney at five p.m., is pleasant enough; seeing that one can well get over six hours in a comfortable railway carriage if the party consists of genial spirits who don’t object to their companions making themselves happy; for their’s a good supper, and a good fire ready waiting one at Praytons on arrival, and alter these and a good smoke, "blanket bay" can be reached at half-an-hour after midnight, and the Sydney cit., who had all his Monday at business in the metropolis, may find himself fresh to go "on 'change" in the Great Southern Emporium at half-past nine on Tuesday morning.
This is convenient and pleasant, as well as conducive to health; but the night trip from Goulburn, starting instead of finishing at midnight, is quite another pair of shoes - a most unearthly hour to begin a journey, with the prospect of arriving home at half-past seven, feeling like a "hunted devil," and utterly unfit to go about the day's affairs. That's anything but a rosy affair, and may be fairly estimated as neither pleasant nor profitable. At the beginning of last week, when the frosty nights were on, Goulburn was about three pair of socks, two crimeans, one pair of "continuations,"' a comforter, and an overcoat colder than Sydney, and the way to find this out was to make the journey by the mail train. Twas splendid moonlight; so that the country was to be seen all along, from the carnage windows; and after getting on the high lands past Sutton Forest, the said country looks barren and miserable enough. This, however, is better taken note of by day; and of it more anon, as they of stage proclivities have it.
There are many great engineering triumphs on this Southern line; very steep gradients, sharp corners, stupendous cuttings, a fine bridge, and a long tunnel; all of which are matters of great interest to the traveller who sees them for the first time, and is not too susceptive of cold to keep his head out of the window now and then for a few minutes at a time. The line runs exceedingly well: great care seems to be taken by the engine drivers in climbing and descending the steep inclines; there's a good supply of civility to be got from the subordinate officers along the line, by any one who has occasion for their assistance and asks it properly; and the business of the department seems to be very well carried on to insure comfort and safety for passengers and luggage.
My trip to the southward was made on one of those cold, frosty nights last week; but with a very cozy party of a dozen in a first-class carriage, all well behaved, and free from fat old ladies on the one hand, and grumbling old codgers on the other, nobody felt cold; though when we got into the high latitudes, and a window was put down for only a few seconds, the rarified atmosphere (is that a big word enough ?) almost took the end of one's nose off. Our dozen was a regular motley-people of all countries, creeds, and professions; but nil got on well together and made great fun. "Josephus," the metallician, was, as he himself remarked, “immense," in splendid form; and as he reclined gracefully with his night-cap well drawn down, and spouted interesting relics of the earliest poets-even "Chaucer," he helped to keep the fun going most materially.
The Prussian, turning his furs inside, rolled himself up in his corner, and had just commenced to dream of Schleswig-Holstein when he received a gentle reminder from Josephus, in the shape of a well-filled portmanteau, sent with unerring accuracy at his head. There were the horsey men going to the races and talking horse, as, of course, they would; they of Victoria disputing for precedence with their brethren of this colony; opinions as to the relative merits of The Barb and Fishhook differing in accordance with the peculiar idiosyncrasies of the talkers. From this part of the company we might have got up very creditably a scene or two from “The Flying Scud." "Beef" was well represented by some graziers who grow it on the Sutton Forest country; and by some butchers who buy from them to supply Sydney market, and by some rare good trenchermen, whose appetites got tremendous before arriving at Goulburn - the little stop-gap at Nattai appearing to act only as a whet.
The provedore at the Nattai station didn't seem to expect such a visitation, and had not calculated on the crowd going to the races. The supply of tea, coffee, "sandwigs," and other comestibles was good in quality and equal in quantity to the demand, but there was a slight scarcity of cups and saucers, which made it necessary for the passengers to make their onslaughts in relays, the inconvenience of which was very slight, as plenty of time was allowed. At Goulburn arrived, then came the landlord of the Commercial with his break, which was soon loaded full up; and there was à great rush for beds at that said hostelrie. A few had to take up their quarters elsewhere; but having had the forethought "to do myself the pleasure of writing," this informer found a room ready for himself and friend.
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