The Great Southern Rail Journey - Australian Traveller

The Great Southern that connects Brisbane and Adelaide is a rail journey of a lifetime, rendering a vivid image of the vast landscapes it traverses.

Distance is not measured in kilometres onboard the Great Southern that travels between Brisbane and Adelaide. Instead, vignettes of rural Australia serve as waymarkers: A white mare flicking its tail on the emerald slopes of the Byron hinterland; A lone shack – weatherboarded and timeworn – perched by the briny banks of the Hawkesbury River; Silos rising from the golden grasslands of regional Victoria, rendered tender in the honeyed glow of the evening sun.

In the early 20th century, Australian bush poet Henry Lawson popularised ‘the sketch’ – a literary form consisting of a short, descriptive narrative containing little plot, if any at all. Before the advent of mainstream photography, ‘the sketch’ served to evoke the essence of a place and transport readers, however briefly, into an unfamiliar world.

feet relaxing by the window of a train, The Great Southern — While away the day by the window.

Journeying aboard the Great Southern feels analogous. From the window of my cabin, pastoral scenes rush by, fading from view just as quickly as they enter. The motion of the train melds the colours – all dusty greens, mottled browns and smoky greys – into painterly impressions, rough sketches of life in the country.

Just like ‘the sketch’, there is no plot to the sequence; each scene is stitched together only by threads of the imagination that conjure up fleeting images of what life might look like in the places we pass by. In another life, I’m watching the train pass me instead. From the quaint cottage with a horse in its paddock. The sun-bleached porch of the riverside shack. The dinky little farmhouse on Victorian cattle country.

Over four states, three days and 2885 kilometres of railroad, the Great Southern renders a sketch of the country. It’s a mammoth journey that takes in diverse landscapes, food and people from all walks of life.

The Great Southern passing through Boambee Creek — The Great Southern traces the country from coast to bush.

Tracking down dinner in Coffs Harbour

Smoke perfumes the air like incense as we’re welcomed to Gumbaynggirr Country. A crescent moon hangs above us like an opalescent crack in the sky, dusk mellowing the coastal hues of the landscape, now a delicate wash of seafoam, terracotta and ivory. We’ve disembarked at Coffs Harbour for the Great Southern’s first off-train excursion, a beachside dinner that showcases al fresco dining at its very finest.

an aerial view of the Great Southern train passing through Coffs Harbour — The 700-metre-plus Great Southern train passes through Coffs Harbour on NSW’s North Coast.

Long tables have been set out, dressed in fresh white and festooned with fairy lights, perfectly encapsulating the airy coastal charm of the setting. Caterers have plated up a taste of the region. There are oysters from Nambucca Heads, so fresh the brackishness is palpable. Beef from Casino paired with potatoes from Dorrigo (aka ‘spud country’). And, best of all, local bananas that have been crafted into sumptuous bites of banoffee tart for dessert.

As we dine, we’re accompanied by the sound of the ocean’s churn, the croon of a live jazz band and the ebullient buzz of chatter among fellow passengers getting to know one another. They may be strangers now, but once the train reaches its terminus, many will disembark as friends. This is thanks to the social nature of the Great Southern, where the lounge and bar car serve as the communal hub and beating heart of the train. Back onboard, I make a beeline for the bar as soon as I hear the engine begin to hiss and groan into motion.

an al fresco dinner by the beach in Coffs Harbour — Enjoy an evening to remember by the beach in Coffs Harbour.

A snapshot of daily life onboard

The carriage is flush with crimson and gold, Tasmanian Blackwood timber and Art Deco flourishes – a nod to an era when rail travel was in its prime. Entering the bar feels like stepping into a Hitchcock film. It’s not just the old-world feel of it all – I’m walking in the opposite direction of motion, giving the surreal effect of the filmmaker’s infamous ‘Dolly Zoom’ as I approach the bar.

wine and food onboard The Great Southern — Enjoy a tipple from the comfort of your private cabin.

I order a nightcap of Baileys over ice and soak in the evening’s entertainment – singalong tunes courtesy of guitarist and vocalist Kev Jones. The vintage theme is reflected in the song choices – Kev has come prepared with an arsenal of golden oldies, from Billie Holiday to The Beatles and Elvis’s entire discography.

Kev singles me out to sing the vocals on ABBA’s Dancing Queen and, despite my best efforts to decline the invitation, I end up in front of the car, reluctantly holding the microphone. I’m not singing the right lyrics, in the right key, or even the right tune. But none of that matters. The whole carriage is singing along with me, erupting when it comes to the chorus. The train hurtles on through the night.

Riding on a night train

When I retire to my cabin, I find that the room has miraculously been made up, the couch transformed into a cosy, single berth. I settle in, keeping the blinds open so I can watch the skeletal silhouettes of the eucalypts whizz past.

the JBRE Accommodation Platinum Service Cabin bed onboard the Great Southern — Couches are transformed into comfy beds come nightfall.

There’s something enduringly romantic about riding a night train; the latent sense of adventure; the link to a bygone era; the fact that it’s a prevailing, almost archetypal symbol in literature and folk music.

Henry Lawson surmised the sentiment best in On The Night Train, a poem he wrote in 1922 that would also be one of his last: Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by? / Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry.

I think of all who have taken in similar vistas before me, swagmen stowing away on freight trains as they moved through the country, commuters and coal miners throughout the ages. Sleep finds me eventually, and I’m rocked into a restful repose by the rumbling of the locomotive charging due south.

The Great Southern railway tracks connect Brisbane and Adelaide.

A stopover in Port Stephens

There are no roads to Tin City. Instead, I’m bouncing over sand dunes in the back of a 4WD bus as our guide, Craig Hallam, steers us onto Stockton Beach in Newcastle, NSW. While the majority of passengers have opted for a wine-tasting excursion in the Hunter, an intrepid few of us have set out exploring Port Stephens by land.

The evening primrose flowers leap out in contrast against the overcast grey of the morning. A colony of pied oystercatchers totter across the beach, poking their orange bills in the sand in search of pipis. A white-bellied sea eagle sits regally, hidden among the scrub. “These are the largest moving sand dunes in the southern hemisphere," Craig booms over the intercom as fellow passengers and I rock and sway in our seats.

Port Stephens 4WD Tours on Stockton Beach — Explore Stockton Beach with Port Stephens 4WD Tours.

A Sahara-like scene looms behind us, mighty dunes that can rise up to 30 metres tall and reach a gradient of more than that of the world’s steepest ski pistes. This is the backdrop to Tin City, a shantytown of a dozen shacks at the end of the beach. Originally built for shipwrecked sailors in the early 1900s, the settlement mushroomed in the Great Depression of the ’30s. Now, there are just three permanent residents.

Each shack is a motley patchwork of scrap metal, taking ‘off-grid living’ to a new level. The height of tech here is a beer keg strapped to the roof of a resident’s house “so the sun can heat the water for hot showers".

If this sounds like something straight out of Mad Max, that’s because it is – Tin City appeared in the original 1979 action flick. But stranger than fiction is the real-life post-apocalyptic undertones of the beach. Traces of the region’s Second World War military history are very much alive today, in unearthed explosives scattered across the sand. “Every few years, they’ll uncover something they didn’t know was here," Craig explains. Recently, a bomb had to be blown up onsite and, not long before that, a dog presented its owner with an unexploded military mortar during a game of fetch.

A beer can’s kick away, two residents sit chatting beneath the shade of one of the shacks. On the roof, a black flag flutters in the wind. There’s something drawn on it that I can’t quite make out, so I ask Craig if he knows what it is. “I sure do," he replies with a chuckle. “It’s the Jack Daniels logo."

the desert town of Tin City — Tin City is an off-grid shantytown dating back to the early 1900s.

Travelling over the Hawkesbury River

Launched in 2019, Great Southern is the latest to join Journey Beyond’s fleet of great Australian rail journeys . Although it’s in its infancy compared to historic trains such as The Ghan, what the Great Southern lacks in age it makes up for in vistas.

“As far as I’m concerned, the [Great Southern] is certainly a superior journey for the scenery," says Bruce Smith, service operation manager of the train. And he would know. Bruce has worked on trains for 28 years, journeying all over the country with passengers among the likes of late PM Bob Hawke, singer Paul Kelly and actress Margot Robbie. Bruce isn’t the type to get starstruck, but certain sections of the route never fail to arrest him. The Hawkesbury River is one of them, and its bush-clad banks and gleaming boat-flecked bays are rolling into view now.

Aerial view of Hawkesbur River Rail Bridge — Arresting views of the Hawkesbury River can be seen as you pass over the bridge. (Image: Elias Bitar via Getty Images)

We cross over the Hawkesbury River railway bridge, which was the final link connecting the rail network between Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. Built in 1889, it was a major feat of 19th-century engineering. I imagine the first train passengers crossing it, hovering over the dimpled green water for nearly a kilometre, vaulting towards the warm sandstone shades of Darkinjung Country, captivated by it all as I am now.

A winery stop in Inverleigh

We alight in Inverleigh in regional Victoria, where we spend the afternoon lingering over a long lunch at the family-owned Clyde Park Winery . Nearly all the ingredients come from within a 20-kilometre radius. There’s local duck served glazed and sticky on a woodfired Peking duck pizza, roast lamb from ‘just across the river’ that’s been rubbed generously with herbs from the garden and succulent pork belly from a nearby farm. I sample the pinot noir: the crisp cherry, strawberry and rosewater notes refreshing my palate between bites.

food and wine on the table at Clyde Park — Clyde Park draws upon local produce. (Image: Carl Wilson)

I return to the train so stuffed that I’m forced to pass on dinner, but I opt for a drink in the Queen Adelaide dining car to soak up the ambience. The sunset pierces the window, illuminating the bubbles rising in my Champagne glass and flooding the carriage with a honeyed hue.

the green landscape of Moorabool Valley at Clyde Park — Be ensconced in the greens of the Moorabool Valley as you wine and dine at Clyde Park. (Image: Carl Wilson)

a staff of an Art Deco-inspired Queen Adelaide dining car holding plates of food — Settle into an Art Deco-inspired Queen Adelaide dining car. (Image: Cam Inniss)

I watch snapshots of the country flash by in the day’s final light. Stringy eucalypts reflecting in glassy patches of water. Cows roaming across the tawny grass. Haze filming over mountains in the distance. These are the final wayposts on the route of the Great Southern, completing the final leg of its journey through the nation’s bucolic heart.

Winding down in the Yarra Valley, where ‘work from home’ becomes ‘work from wine country’.

Steam from my morning coffee curls gently into the cool valley air, mist-veiled vineyards stretch out in neat rows below me. Magpies warble from trees, and the morning’s quiet carries the soft bleating of lambs from a nearby paddock. Midweek in the Yarra Valley has its own rhythm. It’s slower, quieter, with more empty tables at cafes and cellar doors, and walking trails I can claim all to myself. It’s as if the entire region takes a deep breath once the weekend crowd leaves.

walking trails in the Yarra Valley — You’ll find walking trails are less crowded during the week. (Image: Visit Victoria)

I haven’t come here for a holiday, but to do a little work somewhere other than my home office, where I spend too much time hunched over my desk. Deadlines still loom, meetings still happen, but with flexible work evolving from ‘work from home’ to ‘work from anywhere’, I’m swapping the view of my front yard to the vineyards.

A quiet afternoon at Yarra Valley Dairy

holding a glass of wine at Yarra Valley Dairy — Wine time at Yarra Valley Dairy, where you can enjoy a toastie or bagel in the cafe. (Image: Visit Victoria)

With the Yarra Valley just over an hour from the CBD, many Melburnians could drive here in their lunch break. I arrive late in the afternoon and am delighted to discover the Yarra Valley Dairy still open. On weekends, I’ve seen queues spilling out the door, but today there’s only one other couple inside. There’s no need to rush to secure a table; instead I browse the little store, shelves stacked with chutneys, spices, artisan biscuits and gorgeous crockery that would look right at home in my kitchen. It’s hard not to buy the lot.

a cheese tasting plate atYarra Valley Dairy — A cheese tasting plate at Yarra Valley Dairy.

I order a coffee and a small cheese platter, though the dairy has a full menu, and choose a wooden table with bentwood chairs by a wide window. The space feels part farm shed, part cosy café: corrugated iron ceiling, walls painted in muted tones and rustic furniture.

Outside, cows meander toward milking sheds. If pressed for time, there’s the option of quick cheese tastings – four samples for five dollars in five minutes – but today, I’m in no rush. I sip slowly, watching a grey sky settle over the paddock. Less than an hour ago I was hunched over my home-office desk, and now my racing mind has slowed to match the valley’s pace.

Checking in for vineyard views at Balgownie Estate

Restaurant 1309 at Balgownie Estate has views across the vines.

As my car rolls to a stop at Balgownie Estate , I’m quietly excited, and curious to see if my plan to work and play comes off. I’ve chosen a suite with a spacious living area and a separate bedroom so I can keep work away from a good night’s sleep. I could have booked a cosy cottage, complete with open fireplace, a comfy couch and a kettle for endless cups of tea, but as I am still here to get some work done, I opt for a place that takes care of everything. Dinner is served in Restaurant 1309, as is breakfast.

oysters at Restaurant 1309, Balgownie Estate — Oysters pair perfectly with a crisp white at Restaurant 1309.

On my first evening, instead of the usual walk about my neighbourhood, I stroll through the estate at an unhurried pace. There’s no need to rush – someone else is preparing my dinner after all. The walking trails offer beautiful sunsets, and it seems mobs of kangaroos enjoy the view, too. Many appear, grazing lazily on the hillside.

I wake to the call of birds and, after breakfast, with the mist still lingering over the vineyards, I watch two hot-air balloons silently drift above clouds. Perched on a hill, Balgownie Estate sits above the mist, leaving the valley below veiled white.

kangaroos in Yarra Valley — Spotting the locals on an evening walk. (Image: Visit Victoria)

Exploring the Yarra Valley on two wheels

the Yarra Valley vineyards — Swap your home office for a view of the vineyards. (Image: Visit Victoria/Cormac Hanrahan)

Perhaps because the Yarra Valley is relatively close to where I live, I’ve never considered exploring the area any way other than by car or on foot. And with a fear of heights, a hot-air balloon is firmly off the table. But when I discover I can hop on two wheels from the estate and cycle into Yarra Glen, I quickly realise it’s the perfect way to step away from my laptop and experience a different side of the region.

COG Bike offers pedal-assist e-bikes, and while the bike trail and paths into town aren’t particularly hilly, having an extra bit of ‘oomph’ means I can soak up the surroundings. Those lambs I heard calling early in the morning? I now find them at the paddock fence, sniffing my hands, perhaps hoping for food. Cows idle nearby, and at a fork in the bike path I turn left toward town.

It’s still morning, and the perfect time for a coffee break at The Vallie Store. If it were the afternoon, I’d likely turn right, in the direction of four wineries with cellar doors. The ride is about 15 kilometres return, but don’t let that put you off. Staying off the highway, the route takes you along quiet backroads where you catch glimpses of local life – farmers on tractors, weathered sheds, rows of vines and the kind of peaceful countryside you don’t see from the main road.

A detour to the Dandenong Ranges

legs hanging over the sides of the train, Puffing Billy Railway — The iconic Puffing Billy runs every day except Christmas Day.

The beauty of basing myself in the Yarra Valley is how close everything feels. In barely half an hour I’m in the Dandenong Ranges, swapping vineyards for towering mountain ash and fern-filled gullies. The small villages of Olinda and Sassafras burst with cosy teahouses, antique stores and boutiques selling clothing and handmade body care items.

I’m drawn to RJ Hamer Arboretum – Latin for ‘a place for trees’. Having grown up among tall trees, I’ve always taken comfort in their presence, so this visit feels like a return of sorts. A stroll along the trails offers a choice: wide open views across patchwork paddocks below, or shaded paths that lead you deeper into the quiet hush of the peaceful forest.

The following day, I settle into a quiet corner on the balcony of Paradise Valley Hotel in Clematis and soon hear Puffing Billy’s whistle and steady chuff as the steam train climbs towards town. Puffing Billy is one of Australia’s most beloved steam trains, running through the Dandenong Ranges on a narrow-gauge track. It’s famous for its open carriages where passengers can sit with their legs hanging over the sides as the train chugs through the forest. This is the perfect spot to wave to those on the train.

After my midweek break, I find my inbox still full and my to-do list not in the least shrunken, just shifted from one task to another. But I return to my home office feeling lighter, clearer and with a smug satisfaction I’d stolen back a little time for myself. A midweek wind-down made all the difference.

A traveller’s checklist

Staying there

Balgownie Estate offers everything from cellar door tastings to spa treatments and fine dining – all without leaving the property.

Playing there

the TarraWarra Museum of Art, Yarra Valley — Visit the TarraWarra Museum of Art. (Image: Visit Victoria)

Wander through Alowyn Gardens, including a stunning wisteria tunnel, then explore the collection of contemporary artworks at TarraWarra Museum of Art . Cycle the Yarra Valley with COG Bike to visit local wineries and cellar doors.

Eating and drinking there

Olinda Tea House offers an Asian-inspired high tea. Paradise Valley Hotel, Clematis has classic pub fare, while the iconic Yering Station offers wine tastings and a restaurant with seasonal dishes.

seasonal dishes at the restaurant inside Yering Station — The restaurant at Yering Station showcases the best produce of the Yarra Valley. (Image: Visit Victoria)

Sketching the country onboard the Great Southern