Next stop — Radelaide by rail
We are on the Nullarbor, heading from Perth to Adelaide by rail on the Indian Pacific, with my now seventy-year-old mother.
There is not much to do other than play cards, eat, drink, and watch my self-tan develop as we inch our way toward my birthplace — and Mum’s old stomping ground — Adelaide.
(If you haven’t visited, you should.)
On the train, we are surrounded by pensioners gleefully spending their children’s inheritance. Judging by the demographic, we are quietly hoping no one pops their clogs en route.
Unfortunately, I have made the gentleman with the oxygen tank nervous. If my claustrophobia does not dissipate soon, his tank is mine.
We have three nights on the train, then two in Adelaide to catch up with family.
My husband is home in charge of Christmas. I fully expect the house will be decked out with automated fairy lights and dancing Santas when I return.
My mum is seventy.
And she is awesome.