After travelling from George in the Western Cape to Durban in the Kzu-Natal, a distance spanning 1,800km covered in three weeks, it's my last day of my South African Garden Route road trip. The last few days are spent in balmy Durban scarfing bunny chows, visiting markets, and catching a few more waves. It's winter here and the nights are absolute bliss: shorts-and-tshirt weather, no mosquitoes and a nice sea breeze, all complimented by an ice cold Castle Lager.

I'm staying at Smiths Cottage, just outside Durban central. It's a simple place, spartan even, but run by the loveliest lady I've met so far this trip. Pat has a maternal way about her that puts even my sometimes neurotic mind at ease. She's warm, easy to warm to, and speaks with a faint English accent, Liverpudlian tones worn away by many years in SA. Her voice has the characteristic huskiness of a heavy smoker, and, together with her dry wit, gentle teasing and diminutive frame is all the more endearing.

When I tell her I'm taking the 12h sleeper train back to Joberg she scratches her head and asks "why would you do that?" Everyone else I tell is equally baffled since driving is much quicker and flying quicker still. But I'm just plain sick of driving and, having exhausted all 60 gigs of music on my iPod, I need a break. The train is cheap, doesn't require me to do anything and I think it will be fun. There are some concerns about safety but I think I'll be OK.

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For this trip I decided to just note down my observations as they happened rather than writing one cohesive post.

18:00 Pat drops me off, gives me a big hug and then jokingly imparts the following advice "find some white people to bunk up with!" then asks me to drop her a line about my experience so that she may pass it on to other backpackers. Call me guinea pig.

Note: South Africans don't have all the hang-ups about race that we North Americans do. It's not taboo to talk about it and they openly joke about racial issues which is really refreshing

18:15 Line up is longggg. I struggle to locate any foreigners among the throng and after five minutes give up. Guess I'm the only one. The lady in front of me confirms that this is indeed the line for Platform 13. Then, in an overly familiar manner, she hands me her plastic bag to pop into the convenience store for a bag of chips. I oblige, it's the Canadian thing to do.

18:27 Finally make it to the front of the queue. Several police officers and train personnel check tickets and carry-on luggage. I'm instructed to stand aside while others stream ahead. A lady checks my ticket against her clipboard, gives me the up and down, and then scrawls 10H on my ticket. I'm the only one she does this to and can only assume that she's either put me in a room with the roughest, toughest, rowdiest locals to give me the full experience, or she's deemed me too "soft" and put me in foreigner class.

18:33 I board car 10 and quickly determine that the Eurostar this is not. No greetings from smartly dressed attendants, nor any soothing jazz to calm travel jitters; just the sound of unfamiliar voices seeping through paper-thin walls and the din of station as people make their way on board.

This train has seen better days; the car is dim and several lights have burned out, the walls are grimy . I don't know what I was expecting but was hoping for something... cleaner. Following the letters, I open the door to "H" and what luck, I'm the first one in the cabin! All the berths are vinyl covered and testing all four, I determine that the left side is comfiest.

Bedding is available for rent at the cost of R55 per person which I decide to forgo. I take off my shoes and tie them to a strap on my ruck sack which I then use as a foot rest, then fold up my jacket to use as a pillow while I lie down facing the window to watch the passing scenery.

19:15 After three more stops no one else has come into my compartment so it looks like I might have it to myself! Guess I am in "softie" class after all. I actually don't know how many stops this train is making so I may have some company yet but for now I'll enjoy the solitude.

I will say this about trains in Africa, they sure are punctual. I could hear the screech of the wheels against the rails as soon as the clock hit quarter past. London Underground take note.

19:39 Looks like I was wrong about smartly dressed attendants. The manager of the train came around to introduce herself as Precious Umswata (sic?). Lovely smile but needs to work on her handshake. Limp as a dead fish.

Trains off to a speedy start now and the police have just come by to wish us a safe journey and make their presence know. Nice touch!

19:59 It just occurred to me that maybe I've been put in this compartment on my own because the other passengers wouldn't want to share with me! :(

20:32 Meal service just came around serving pap with brown sauce or pap with red sauce. Politely declined. I want to avoid having to witness what grim state the bathroom is in. I am impressed with the service so far though. After all the exclamations of surprise at me taking the train I was expecting much worse.

21:43 Trains been going at a good clip now. People have settled in and kids aren't running and screaming down the corridors any more, thank god. Bathroom's not too bad either (drank too much water). I imagine I'll see much worse in India. Nothing left to do but to stretch out on this berth and catch some Z's... À demain.

22:35 Just as I was falling asleep, the train made a stop and now I've got two new bunkmates. Say hello to Big Boy and Shell Suit.

Shell Suit claims bottom bunk and in an amazing display of unconscientiousness dominates the only fold out table by unpacking the entire contents of his backpack: alarm clock, three magazines, a fold out mirror, a bottle of water, some toiletries, a news paper and his bedding on the berth. Big Boy looks unhappy that he'll have to take top bunk but it's Shell Suit's funeral if that top berth doesn't support heavy loads. Thank goodness none of these guys are the chatty type. I've met enough strangers on this road trip and am not in the mood for chit chat. Back to bed.

04:27 Fuck man it has gotten real cold all of a sudden. So bad I can see my breath. I thought Africa was supposed to be hot! Wish I'd paid for bedding now. Had to dig out both sweaters from the ruck sack and double up on socks. Also using a pair as mittens. Hands stuck in my armpits like that SNL skit.

07:43 Worst sleep ever. Train was freezing cold last night and Shell Suit turned on all the lights looking for the heater switch. Almost gave me an epileptic attack the way he was working those lights.

Was woken up this morning to Big Boy munching on a pack of biscuits, mouth open, raining crumbs all over carriage while chatting on his phone at full volume.

Also have a major kink in the neck. Ugh.

Cannot wait to get back to Joberg and sleep in a bed that I know hasn't had 50 other hostel patrons before me with clean sheets and no mites, bathrooms with running hot water where I don't have to limit myself to 5 minutes and toilets that don't have signs that read "if it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down." And my kitchen, thank god. Vitamix how I've missed you.