Jonathan PhangArticle by Jonathan Phang
When I was told that the November issues of Riddle would be devoted to all things techno, my heart literally sank. I have been stressing about what to write on the subject that I know so little about and, care so little for. I have used every excuse in the book for why I haven’t handed in my homework yet…
I began my career before the facsimile machine was invented and I believed that computers and mobile phones were for “other people”. I never imagined owning such things, or, being so possessed by them. Equally, I never envisaged being so grumpy, having multiple chins, a pot bell, greying hair and turning into my late father at such an early age.
Personal and emotional issues have always intrigued me more than the newest gadgets. Thankfully every jar has its lid and I am grateful to the creative minds that have made all our lives so much easier and more convenient. However, I do as little as possible on my computer, I use email, Word documents, can just about tweet and upload photos onto Facebook. I have no apps, and rarely update my phone. It is now too late for me to learn how to drive a car. I hate waiting wearing watches, never use a wallet and detest internet shopping. I am generally happy with my life and the way that I live it (other than not owning my house outright yet and having insufficient pension funds). I will get around to being more computer literate when I feel it really necessary.
Live and let live is my motto but, I do worry that we may be creating a generation of youngsters with short attention spans, who are glued to their phones, who think that it is okay to date by an app. A generation which may never enjoy some basic pleasures like solitude, the sounds of silence, rooms with views, the art of conversations and the fun of people watching.
My producer/director is a great guy called Jamie and he is everything that I am not. He swims up to eighty lengths before breakfast, drinks beer like I drink water and arranges his diary around football matches. He cannot understand why I can do so little with my iPhone and I cannot fathom out why he prefers playing football games, on his phone, rather than looking out of a window or conversing with me. On a recent trip to Scotland he risked missing our connecting flight to Canada; by returning home, all the way to North London from Heathrow, in order to pick up his new iPhone 6. His excitement was tantamount to winning a rollover lottery and apparently his fiancée didn’t mind that he chose picking up his new phone over going to visit her. Luckily for me, I was sat in separate cabin to him on the flight, so didn’t have endure the distracting site and sounds of him learning how to use his new gadget, for the duration of our ten-hour flight to Vancouver.
We recently filmed aboard the iconic Australian train, The Indian Pacific, and experienced an epic journey of a lifetime that I will never forget. The four-day journey took us across the whole of Australia, from Perth to Sydney with stops at Kalgoorlie (the western Australian gold rush hub), Cook (a ghost town on the Nulluabor plain), the charming city of Adelaide, Broken Hill (a living museum, outback mining town, made famous in the film Priscilla Queen of the desert) and Orange (a town four hours drive from Sydney known for it’s acclaimed restaurants and wineries).
I arrived at Perth station exhausted and grumpy from jet lag, but the site of the retro silver bullet train that stood before me and, what was to be my home for the next four days, quickly lightened my mood. A delightful lady named Melanie from Great Southern Rail greeted me, and she explained that we were to be amongst the first guests to experience their inaugural Indian Pacific food and wine train and that there would be many food and wine surprises ahead of us during our journey. Excited by the words “food” and “wine”, I climbed aboard and searched in haste for my cabin. Meanwhile, Jamie asked Melanie what the wife code was and looked panic stricken when he was told that there wasn’t any. I thought that he might have burst into tears when Melanie went on to say that phone reception would be sporadic. I found my room, lay on the comfortable double bed (relieved that it wasn’t the usual fold down train shelf) and sniggered in to my pillow, at the though of my young team, Jamie and Isobel, having to spend four whole days alone with me, without phones, laptops, iPods and tablets.
The train’s interior reminded me a bit of the 1980’s. However, the patterns, the colours and the luscious soft furnishings seemed appropriate for this historic train. The overall atmosphere was that of a simpler time in life. A time, when time itself, was the luxury that people craved, but few could afford. As the train set off into the unknown, the weight of my everyday stresses lifted off my shoulders. I felt a child like excitement, with the liberating knowledge that no one, from my real life, would be able to contact me for four whole days.
The ever changing, and mostly, spectacular views were occasionally interrupted by some of Australia’s most renowned epicurean experts, giving talks about their produce, with infectious passion and knowledge. Each deliciously diverse menu was inspired by local flavours, from the regions that we absorbed from our cabin windows. We devoured their bounty and were and appreciative audience.
I enjoyed every mouthful and every drop that I was served, but the glazed sous vide lamb shoulder cooked by Masterchef winner Adam Liaw, Pinot Grigio and Gruner Veltliner by Tom Keelan of the Pawn Wine Co, cheeses by Kris Lloyd from Woodside Cheese Wrights and just about anything cooked Jenny Taylor of Great Southern Rail, were spectacular and amongst the most memorable for me.
We, some strangers on a train, bonded through our love of food and wine and the disappearing art of conversation. After each meal, we retired to the cosy Outback Explorer lounge for ‘show n tell’, and continued drinking and chatting about our shared experiences until the wee small hours of the morning.
Jamie never got used to not be able to use his techno gadgets on board. But now even he admits that the most impressive, and indulgent way to explore the vastness of Australia is to sit back and look out of a train window. This monumental, journey suspended me in time and detached me from my usual world, it is exactly this feeling that I crave when I travel and The Indian Pacific delivered in spades. The world is a book and those who do not travel only read one page! 