The largest station on this stretch was Peterborough, where the Broken Hill ore shipments come down. There were a large number of trucks carrying stuff that had been through the preliminary processes, most of them seemed to contain some lead.
The end of the afternoon's run came at Quorn, where we again changed trains, though the guage, 'mirabile dictu', remained the same. This time the change was to a really swish train, considering, complete with dining car, sleeper, observation car etc, on which we will go right through to Alice Springs. As we had an interval of about one and a half hours at Quorn we walked over to the pub and had tea.
Coming back to the train we were greeted by the mayor of Quorn, one Richard Thompson. He proudly claims to have the world's record for mayors, having been in cricketers, and, now, ours. His parting gift was a hardback of the Back to Quorn Week which provided us with much amusement in the weary hours to come as his worship the Lord Mayor of Quorn seems to have produced it solely as a means of self-advertisment.
We went away from Quorn in the late evening, skirting the Flinders ranges, (cont...)