It is grey and rainy as I board the Tranzalpine train at the Greymouth station but I'm told the opposite coast will yield better weather. I am happy to be seated in the carriage J, which is attached to the viewing platform at the very back of the train. I go to it immediately after the train pulls away from the station. The wind whips water throughout the connecting vestibule--dousing anyone that comes through it with water. The upside is I don't have to share the viewing area with many people! The conductor announces points of interest over the speakers but it's difficult to hear him over the rumbling train. Suddenly, a tunnel! The stony walls are so close I could touch them. We pass Lake Brunner but only a hint of the southern alps can be seen--it's so misty. I see wooly sheep, weather-worn houses, and plastic-wrapped bales of hay that look like giant marshmallows. My hair is a wet mop atop my head! We have to take our seats before entering the 15 minute long Orita tunnel due to the fumes in a tight space. As we enter it, I chuckle to myself as a man photographs the utter darkness out the window. Does he see something I don't? We exit the tunnel and pull into Arthur's Pass for a brief stop. Legs are stretched, photos snapped, and cigarettes smoked. The train continues through the rain until finally it seems we have outrun it. The mountains are closer and unobscured now. We are told the next 40 minutes are the highlight of the journey. What luck! We pass mountains colored in four shades of green rising above an ice blue river. Tunnel after tunnel (16 in all) engulf the train for 30 seconds at a time. I smell diesel and feel gritty but invigorated by the warm wind on my face and lush landscape rushing by. I am a happy, free vagabond eager to explore my next destination.
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