When the first sod of the 37-kilometer (23-mile) Cairns to Kuranda railway was laid on 10 May 1886, designed to link the sleepy coastal settlement of far north Queensland with the rugged hinterland, wild feasts were held with roast oxen and large quantities of beer. It continued well into the night.
Back then they knew it was a big time: laying the tracks would require hundreds of workers, hostels to meet their (often thirsty) needs, plus hotels and support businesses galore.
The line would also provide key transport for tin and gold miners, as well as opening up fertile grazing land beyond the feared mountains.
In one fell swoop, Cairns (to the dismay of nearby Port Douglas, which had also been competing for the railway) was firmly on the map and its future rosy. The trains were arriving!
Little did they know that 140 years in carriages full of tourists, some of them in the ‘Gold Class’ sipping fine wines and nibbling on cheese, they would travel the winding line into the dangerous rainforest for pleasure. After all, in the 1880s, the interior was a place of malaria, dysentery and appalling conditions.
A total of 32 laborers (construction workers mainly from Ireland and Italy) are believed to have sadly died during the construction of the line, which finally opened in 1891.
Today, you board at Cairns station, hidden between a multi-storey car park and a huge shopping centre, a ten-minute walk from the seaside concourse, packed with lively bars and seafood restaurants.
It is a somewhat gloomy place, far from the tourist glamor of the city. However, it is illuminated by something very special: the brightly painted locomotives of the Kuranda Scenic Railway, which offers rides in delightfully old and rickety carriages, some over 90 years old with original oak paneling.
MailOnline Travel’s Tom Chesshyre boards the Kuranda Scenic Railway (above)
The 23-mile route passes through Barron Gorge National Park, Queensland
Tom is pictured above in a Gold Class carriage, which features green and gold “fancy” armchairs.
My train has ten cars (there can be up to 15 (with capacity for 500 passengers)) hauled by two class 1720 diesel-electric locomotives built in 1966, each with 1,000 horsepower engines.
They may be Trainspotter facts, but this power is important: the line, on narrow gauge tracks (3 feet 6 inches), rises dramatically from sea level to 328 meters (1,076 feet) altitude (crossing 55 bridges and entering 15 tunnels). Push is vital.
After admiring the locomotives, which are painted with images of Buddha-Dji, the “carpet snake” from the stories of the “dream times” of indigenous Australians, I enter my carriage and clatter out of it.
The joy of the trip comes from leaving the city center, with its gritty auto parts yards and warehouses followed by elegant suburban houses with solar panels and swimming pools, into the deep, uncompromising rainforest of palm fronds and towering overhanging eucalyptus and fig trees. . vines.
Colorful butterflies flicker here and there. Tropical birds chirp. It is officially located in the Wet Tropics of Queensland World Heritage Site; more specifically, in Barron Gorge National Park, through which the Barron River flows, taking the path that Buddha-Dji is said to have established many millennia before settlers arrived in Australia. 1770s.
The change of scenery occurs quite suddenly, almost before you have had a chance to observe your surroundings.
I was in Carriage Ten, standard class (called Heritage Class), dating from 1944 and with an interior adorned with burgundy leather benches, old black and white portraits of brave 19th century laborers, beautiful oak paneling and windows. open. with metal bars. The latter provided a cool and pleasant breeze. There is no need for air conditioning.
The train stops at Barron Falls, “a magnificent waterfall that falls 265 meters (869 ft) over large rocks to the valley floor.”
Kuranda train station has over 200 plants and pythons are sometimes seen gliding on the platform, Tom discovers.
The only other “luxury” is a simple water dispenser in the corner (there is no dining car). In Gold Class (on select services), however, you get elegant green and gold lounge chairs, plus beer, wine, soft drinks, cheese boards, sorbets, and souvenir postcards and pens.
This costs an extra £28 each way, I am reliably informed by Aiko, one of the cheerful guards. Heritage Class one-way fare is £29.
The train goes deeper and deeper into the jungle: tree kangaroos, possums, flying foxes and strange cassowary birds lurk somewhere inside. A running commentary gives you all the basics about the trials and tribulations of the workers of the 1880s.
It is said that some of those killed were buried under the tracks on which we traveled. Meanwhile, in those early days, ruined camps with rough-and-ready bars had been erected along the line.
There are several highlights of this frankly glorious trip. After an initial 180-degree turn called the Jungarra Loop, the cars rumble toward the 80-meter-long Stoney Creek Bridge. And here, on my trip, we are followed by a tourist helicopter that flies dramatically over a gorge.
Further ahead, the train makes a stop at Barron Falls, a magnificent waterfall that falls 265 meters (869 feet) over large rocks to the valley floor. What a spectacular view.
Tom meets Kuranda station master Paul Courtney, who reveals that a five-metre python was once seen on the platform. But he adds reassuringly: “They don’t like humans.”
Station Master Paul in the greenhouse at Kuranda Station. ‘How many stations have one of those?’ comments tom
Tom appears here in the old signal box at Kuranda Station.
The last treat is to reach Kuranda station, perhaps the greenest in the world, literally. More than 200 plants (many in hanging baskets) grow on its long, curved platform. I know this because I’m told all about it by the brilliant and very tall gas station manager Paul Courtney, who points out the “elephant ear” plants with huge leaves and the “painter’s palette” plants with bright red flowers.
After I’m shown the platform greenhouse (how many stations have one of those?) and the old signal box, I ask about the snakes. The rainforest seems like prime territory for snakes.
“Oh yeah, they’re usually just pythons,” Paul says casually. ‘Once we had one that was five meters long. Usually we just wait for them to go away. They don’t like humans. But if they don’t leave and there are passengers around, we will transfer them.
Of more concern are the taipan snakes. “They’re one of the deadliest snakes in the world,” Paul says, again nonchalantly. But apparently they are quite rare.
At the end of this fantastic trip, one of the best at this distance, you will be able to explore the small, quiet town of Kuranda, with its charming restaurants, bars, art galleries (some featuring first-class work by indigenous Australians) and cheap shops. and cheerful souvenir shops.
All that’s left is to return to sea level, which I do via the fantastic Skyrail cable car, rising above the rainforest canopy. Alternatively, of course, you can also go back down by train.
Any railway lover visiting Australia should head straight for the 1 hour 55 minute Kuranda journey, as tourists have done since 1936 when the first tourist services began.
One of the most important railway stories in the country and the best trips awaits you.
• Tom Chesshyre is the author of Slow trains to Istanbul… and back: A 4,570-Mile Adventure on 55 Attractions, published by Summersdale.