The Bug’s self appointed travel editor continues his reports on his recent four-day, three-night trip across Australia on the famous Indian Pacific.

How could one of the world’s great train tragics suddenly find themselves so totally disappointed only moments into one of the world’s supposedly great rail journeys that they wanted it to end there and then?

Scrap disappointment. How about shocked and dismayed?

The train tragic I’m talking about is me, by the way. Here’s what happened.

Our eastbound Indian Pacific service had barely begun to gather pace out of Perth when our announcer grabbed his PA microphone, welcomed us all and in dulcet tones began to explain one of the major difficulties that faced those visionaries seeking to build a railway right across this big brown land of ours.

Most of the 30 crew who look after passengers on this famous train have fancy titles; I missed this announcer’s but let’s call him our on-board senior communications and information officer.

And these construction difficulties? No, not the enormous distance involved although that was daunting enough. It was the varying rail gauges adopted by the various colonies in the 19th Century.

Now, dear readers, get your buzzers ready and see if you can pick the fundamental error made by our supposedly clued-up and knowledgeable OBSC&IO.

One that I imagine will shock any of you with a childhood love, and basic knowledge of trains, just as much as it did me when I heard it as I was taking a picture of the 100 per cent pure gold-looking handle on my E9 cabin door (above) about midway along this 28-car luxury train.

I was taking pictures of the handle and the gold badge on the door (below, right) because I had already flushed the toilet a few times, played with the window blinds and shouted “toot toot” and “choo-choo! choo-choo!” over and over again as the train slowly gathered pace out of the East Perth Terminal. I’m not embarrassed to admit all that; it’s what train tragics do, okay?

Anyway, back to our OBSC&IO. He explained that Australian colonies had adopted a mixture of the narrow gauge of 3ft 6in, the standard gauge of 4ft eight-and-a half inches and – thumbs on buzzers, now! – the broad gauge of …. get ready! …. 5ft 4in.

Congratulations to all who buzzed in. Take you thumbs away now, please. Save those batteries. Anyone who professes to be true train tragic would know immediately that a 5ft 4in broad gauge has never, ever, been used in Australia.

Our OBSC&IO for whatever reason has added an inch to the broad gauge used across networks in both Victoria and South Australia. In one foul swoop, he has made an absolute fool of rail administrators across our great metropolitan areas of Melbourne and Adelaide who for countless decades in a pathetic attempt to save passengers’ lives have been purchasing rolling stock that fit neatly and comfortably on their traditional 5ft 3in gauges.

This train tragic could do nothing but close his eyes firmly and imagine the chaos now playing out across those two fine capital cities and some SA and Victorian regional lines as locomotives and freight wagons and passenger cars derailed tragically amid the sparks and deafening noise as steel wheels and concrete sleepers interacted.

So, was this just a slip of the tongue by our OBSC&IO or was that really written on his notes?

If he really thought 5ft 4in was the correct answer, what is this klutz going to tell us next?

That the massive engine working hard a good 300 metres ahead of my cabin is solar-powered?

That watching the Nullarbor flash by for hours on end is really, really, interesting and it’s impossible to take your eyes off it?

And that for some bizarre reason, our entire train is going to be turned back to front while we’re stepped down on our Adelaide excursions and that’s just rotten bad luck for anyone who hates not being able to sit forward?