You Are Invited to a Culinary, Cultural Feast on the Royal Canadian Pacific — RSVP ASAP!
By Lorelei Maison Rockwell
We stepped into an invitation--24 stemmed glasses, butterfly-folded napkins, the sheen of fine china in subdued light. We knew the moment the car door opened—this was going to a memorable evening.
French-Canadian chefs—Alain and Dennis—described, in mouth-watering detail, each dish and wine. Food and drink straight from The Best of the Best of Bon Appétit.
Alain told us softly, “Zees ees verry spesceeale veal. Eet ees prepared wiss love.” Right, love and a sauce to-die-for.
Dennis is a marvel at wine pairings, and his selection of dessert wines set everyone twittering—rare ice wines as well as other delicate vintages.
The Royal Canadian Pacific loop starts and ends in Calgary. For the 26 train buffs [9 from IRT] it was far more than a luxury glide through a gourmet fairyland—although it is certainly that. It’s a 5-star journey through Alberta’s Canadian West and the Canadian Rockies highlighted with stops at:
• Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park
• Tyrell Dinosaur Museum
• Museum of Rail Travel, British Columbia
• Lake Louise, with a professional field guide explaining the shale/fossil deposits
• Banff National Park and its lively Cultural Centre supporting the arts and inspiring creativity
Every excursion is thrilling, but special kudos go to two of the less obvious stops: the Tyrell Dinosaur Museum, with its hundreds of amazingly restored skeletons and the Banff Centre, sizzling with young artistic talent.
This is an invitation to pleasure you will not want to miss.
(IRT Society member Lorelei Maison Rockwell is a freelance writer living in San Carlos, Calif.)
Ghan's New Luxury Service: Platinum on a Desert Plate
By Phoenix Arrien
It was only a matter of time. With demand for the Australian Ghan train’s Gold Service outstripping supply, operators Great Southern Railway (GSR) acted. Hauling out five old carriages and spending $12 million Australian on renovations, they created a new line of sophisticated compartments, lounge and dining cars. Now they are ready to roll (we hope) and together with a companion, I am boarding it in Darwin for its inaugural run south across Australia to Adelaide.
Between May and October, the northern ‘Dry Season’, the Platinum Service will be an addition to the Ghan. The rest of the year, when humidity and monsoonal rains hit northern Australia, the carriages will form the new "Southern Spirit."
This takes pressure off GSR’s Gold Service carriages, especially the overcrowded lounge cars, while simultaneously lifting the current standard of Australia’s long-haul rail travel.
From our Darwin hotel we are taken by bus to the Platinum carriages at the rear of the train. Shown into our cabin, a welcome sight is Devonshire tea - double clotted cream and fresh scones – a fruit bowl, strawberry champagne and iced tea.
Damian Rawlings is our main attendant and like the others, he is efficient, experienced and appears within minutes of a call. His smiling face now pops inside our doorway to explain how everything works, while we sip champagne and eye the scones.
Including the bathroom, the new Platinum Service accommodation measures almost 12 x 7 feet—about twice as large as the Gold Service compartment. Wood from the Tasmanian Myrtle details the walls, along with green fabric features and brass fittings. There is a choice of a double or two single beds, folding into a sofa or two chairs respectively. A small desk folds away, two small ottomans slide under handy little moveable tables and the lights can be dimmed. Two staff and emergency buttons are within easy reach.
The only thing missing is a luggage rack; useful for hats and other awkward-shaped paraphernalia not fitting in the robes, drawers and natty little alcoves.
The bathroom is a revelation and one of Platinum’s best features. The full width of the cabin, it’s larger than any train bathroom I have seen, featuring a full-sized shower, mirror above a basin, toilet and mirrored vanity unit. The shower jets can be directed exactly where you want, conserving energy and water.
When we eventually do use the shower, we cannot get the cold tap working, so we are quickly moved to another cabin. Before leaving, Damian shows us the “Digi player” with movies, cabin safe and games.
A welcome reception in the lounge car includes more champagne while the Platinum manager introduces herself and her staff and offers information about the train and the journey.
We set off, passing through open forest dotted with crumbly termite mounds. The Northern Territory Outback is a sweep of color; green trees and spiky palms, orange earth and blue sky.
Being a warmth-loving creature, my pet complaint with most Australian trains is how high the centrally-controlled air-conditioning is set, usually to compensate for the outside heat. However my request for more warmth is cheerfully carried out (like everything else) and I settle into a milder climate. Another improvement are the touch doors between cars, far easier than pushing open heavy doors.
There are not many towns on the Ghan line. Two cities, Adelaide and Darwin at either end, the town of Alice Springs halfway along and three smaller townships, all attract commentaries through compartment speakers.
We sit down to dinner in the new Queen Adelaide dining car, decorated in gold and maroon in a stylish colonial theme. The ceiling features pressed metal panels, and the tablecloths are whiter than snow, though the plain little table lamps need a few tassels.
The food is well presented and, bar one dish, is put together with an inspired range of flavor and texture combinations. The mussel soup offers the right thickness and spices and the grilled mustard chicken bursts with sublime juices. Disappointing then, to leave the beef fillet unfinished on my plate during one dinner: too chewy on one side and bleeding on the other.
The desserts are highlights. A hushed silence fills the carriage as we tuck into smooth parfaits or tangy puddings, finished with brewed coffee and chocolates.
The “Outback Explorer” lounge car named, in this case, after explorer Charles Sturt, offers 48 seats, meaning there is more breathing space than the smaller 30-seater Gold lounge. GSR plans to create more of the larger Explorer lounges for Gold Service.
Drinks are plentiful at the well-lit central bar counter. Gold-colored sofas and maroon leather padded chairs prop against gold veneer walls. Small tables, wall lamps and books complete the stylish layout.
The ambience is casual and relaxed, encouraging reading, playing games, writing or simply gazing out the large windows. Each evening there is different recorded music. One night it’s jazz; another, it’s folk. However, for the cost of this trip, sophisticated passengers will expect live music.
Environmentally, Platinum Service is setting new standards. Train manager Scott Fels explains that GSR rebuilt the power vans (boiler rooms) to be computer-controlled,; they can detect the voltage required anywhere in the train. The computers also adjust the amount of diesel fuel required, thereby cutting down on emissions and fuel usage.
“This has cut power and emissions by a third since the new system came in,” he points out.
Other signs of environmental awareness: cans, cardboard and bottles are recycled, and a towel card in the cabins instructs guests to “hang up if you plan to reuse towel; leave on floor, if you want a new one.”
Outside, the landscape stretches out as open forest. Kangaroos hop past and Brahman cattle stand under the big flowers of Yellow Kapok trees.
Our first stop is the town of Katherine, and we choose the most exciting of the off-train tours: the helicopter ride.
After a safety talk, we are under the whirling blades and inside the small flying machine. As we rise into the air, the great expanse of Nitmiluk National Park emerges. The blue water and yellow cliffs of Katherine Gorge and the long tree-filled ravines cut through the countryside.
The chopper shakes in the wind, but I am too excited to worry as I take in an ancient, tortured, enormous land. The earthy turmoil of earth, rock, tree and water diminishes all the mundane worries in my life.
Yellow grasses wave in the breeze, long sandstone escarpments sweep across our vision. It is a breathtaking experience, and we land on an emotional high, wonderfully happy and raving.
Most people take the Katherine Gorge cruise that includes visiting ancient aboriginal rock art on 25 million-year-old canyon walls. Waiting to meet them at the local information centre, I read about the indigenous Jawoyn people, who are the ancient custodians of this land, and it adds perspective.
“Nitmiluk is not a wilderness. It is not pristine or untamed: it is a human artifact. Constructed during thousands of years by our living ties, ceremonies, fire and hunting.”
The Rainbow Serpent, an ancient “Dreamtime” spirit, lives in Katherine Gorge, the Jawoyn believe. They feel a spiritual and physical affinity with all their “country:” river, escarpment, forests, rock and animals.
As the long, almost serpent-like Ghan rolls south of Katherine, red earth appears, creating a stark contrast against olive green trees, pink hills and immense blue sky. Birds of prey soar above stunted vegetation, staring hard at the red dirt for tell-tale movements of rodents or reptiles.
Inside the train, we are in a world of refinement. But there is no denying that outside the window is an Australian Outback that is harsh and rugged, yet starkly beautiful.
Books in the lounge car explain the area’s stark history: the lack of services, unrelenting heat, the tragic fate of unprepared travellers and the acute lack of water. We occasionally see bones; I know that a few human ones lie out there in the dirt.
Yet its beauty is real and is of a hard, simple kind: the intense colors and vastness spreading into infinity. Of course, we see none of this from our helicopter above the Central Desert.
When we stop in Alice Springs, we board another helicopter—practically a giant mosquito—and rise into an enormous eggshell blue sky.
From here, the MacDonnell Ranges throw themselves up towards us like gigantic pre-historic waves. The vast landscape is rippled by ancient landforms and gaps in dusty mountains are dotted with dark green vegetation.
Tchk-tchk-tchk-ing along the massive ridge, we see a solitary wedge tail eagle, Australia’s largest bird, standing in an inaccessible aerie built amongst the stark branches of a leafless tree, precariously hanging from a cliff.
The town of Alice Springs is a green grid surrounded by waves of brown and green ranges, looking like debris pushed aside by a giant’s hands when creating a protected flat area for people to live and prosper.
In the distance, the startling white bubbles of Pine Gap, a NASA tracking station, protrude incongruently, like giant mushrooms, from the yellow desert.
Back at the train, iced tea helps us digest such an experience and cools us down. There is no dinner until evening and having only had morning tea, we opt for the fee-paying cabin service “Tasting Plate” and discuss our awesome ride.
The sun sets and cools the land. Shadows lengthen, turning red sand hills into glowing mounds. Parrots flap about the shrubs. We pass the Iron Man, a statue made by the railway workers, who stands a lonely post carrying the one millionth railroad tie. Kindly, the engine driver slows down so we can take a good look.
That night, the orange orb of the sun hangs above the distant horizon, sending rays that turn each cloud a fiery maroon, matching the train decor. Ripples of red shoot from the clouds across the sky towards the train. Then the color slowly dies, and another day in the Outback is over. It is time for dinner in Platinum class.
After a great night’s sleep, I awake to a fresh cup of tea before heading to the dining car for breakfast (a continental breakfast is available for cabin service) of juice, toast, and a choice of two cooked dishes.
Emus and rust-colored sheep run from the train, as an impressive line of blue ranges rears up on the horizon. The desert disappears and little stone houses emerge as the great Outback stations turn into smaller farms sprinkled with bright yellow flowers.
As we shudder to a halt in Adelaide, I am sorry to leave the Ghan and even sorrier to part from the staff’s excellent care. The service is one of the best aspects of this class. Fresh from an intensive three-week training course, the staff is superb, carrying out requests quickly. Their cheerfulness is genuine.
A laid-back, dry humour - reflecting one of the most appealing traits of Australian culture - is constantly present. Those with a need for silence are left in peace, while smiles and good-natured bantering is readily on offer for anyone wanting to interact; all without creating a ripple in the seamless efficiency.
Attendant Criena Hillman tells me that anything is possible on this train, except for “smoking or running along the corridors naked.”
(International Railway Traveler regular contributor Phoenix Arrien is a freelance writer living in Canterbury, Victoria, Australia.)
Up Close and Personal: By Personal Train Through Romania
By Ken Jackson
“The painfully slow Personal trains should be avoided as a rule, unless you’re heading for some tiny destination.” The Rough Guide to Romania
“These trains are achingly slow.” Lonely Planet Guide Eastern Europe
I hadn’t sufficiently studied my guide books when I asked the lady in the Brasov, Romania Tourist Information office for the train times to Sighisoara, the birthplace and family home of national hero, Vlad the Impaler (AKA Dracula).
“The Intercity trains to Sighisoara depart at 1036 and 1545,” she told me.
“But I want to leave around noon,” I said.
“I am afraid that only a Personal train leaves around noon,” She said. “We never recommend for the foreign tourist to travel on a Personal train.”
Duly warned, but committed to my schedule, I approached the Brasov station ticket counter the next day and requested a ticket on the Personal train to Sighisoara. “First Class or Second Class?” The agent asked. When I learned that the price difference was only 7 Romanian Lei (about $3), I splurged for the best, assuming that the discomforts of the Personal train could be assuaged by an upgrade.
I bought a sack of Romanian beer from the platform kiosk as an additional precaution and sat down to wait for my personal train. At nearly the appointed hour, a small diesel engine towing half a dozen carriages that may have once been painted blue with windows that may have once been transparent staggered onto the designated platform.
I searched each car’s markings, but saw no first class compartments. This omission, coupled with the fact that the train’s final destination was not Sighisoara, led me to conclude that this was someone else’s personal train, not mine. But when all my fellow platform occupants boarded, I took the precautionary step of showing the conductor my ticket emphasizing the prominent “1” next to the word “Clase” and with a perplexed look, pointed at the train.
Then I learned a simple but important Romanian train travel truth: Even though a ticket agent will gladly sell you a First Class ticket on a Personal train, this sale in no way implies that the train actually carries a First Class compartment.
The conductor found great humor in my revelation. He laughed, “Da, Da. Is train. Is train,” and gave me a hand up as the train started to move. By the look of his oil-stained uniform and haggard face, I guessed he rarely finds humor in his work and was consoled to have given him the light-hearted moment that only a clueless foreign traveler can provide.
As the train left Brasov and its personal passengers began to unscrew their liters of brown beer, unwrap their packages of sweaty salami and pull off their shoes, I knew I was, at least, getting the real Transylvania travel experience. If this train had had a first class compartment, I would have surely been its only occupant.
Still, I was out 7 Lei, and when the ticket checker came by, I attempted to alert her to this injustice. She responded in English with words she must have memorized when previously confronted with First Class Foreigners on the Personal train: “I am sorry.”
“So can I have a 7 Lei refund?”
“I am sorry.”
“This is no way to run a railroad.”
“I am sorry.” She emphasized for the last time as she moved on to check the Second Class tickets, and I decided to abandon my grievance and crack open a brown beer. “When in Romania…” as they say.
The train’s bench seats were either designed in the style of a 1950s American school bus, or stolen from a 1950s American school bus. They were covered in the hide of a long dead creature that may have once been brown. The windows, though smeared and sooty, were functional for countryside viewing and for savagely increasing the late spring’s afternoon temperatures on the sun side of the train.
My bench-mate fellow traveler was a quiet rural gent who occasionally chewed on something that looked like meat. He was dressed in an olive-green sweater that needed some darning and a black wool coat that would have kept him warm through a Carpathian winter, but was dangerously inappropriate for a window seat on the sun side of the train. He had fastened a strip of ribbon in the national colors to his lapel as a kind of do-it-yourself flag pin
I imagined his name was Gheorghe and that he had suffered under Ceausecu’s agricultural collectivization disaster. He nodded sympathetically when the ticket checker expressed her sorrow at my worthless first-class ticket, but he was otherwise a non-communicative companion.
We had only traveled about 10 miles when I discovered the significance of the term “personal” train. I had originally assumed that it was some translation mistake by the Brasov Tourist Information lady. But no. Personal train passengers can make the train stop anywhere they personally want.
If they want to stop in front of their farmhouse, at a fishing pond, or beside a sports field, they tell the conductor and the train stops to let them off. At these personal stops there are no platforms. The passengers just jump down onto the ground with their sack of feed, their fishing rod, or their football and pick their way across the tracks to their own personal destination.
The Personal train traveler gets a close view of Transylvanian country life. Horse-drawn plows furrow rich soil. Strong well-fed men in white shirts and suspenders cut hay with a scythe, rake it by hand, and load it onto horse-drawn wagons. Women gather at communal roadside hand pumps to collect water. Children in bright clothes scurry everywhere.
Personal trains do make scheduled stops at tiny villages with tiny station houses and platforms, but passengers mostly get on the train there, not off. If your destination is a scheduled stop, presumably, you don’t take the Personal train.
Personal train passengers enjoy curling up on the hard benches after overdosing on brown beer and sausage. Since most of these guys are soon snoring away, and since the conductor makes no stop announcements, I deduced that a designated “stay-awake-passenger” system is employed to arouse these Un-Dead from their slumber at the correct disembarkation point.
I had designated no one to wake me, and Gheorghe looked fairly unreliable, so I tried to stay alert. This proved difficult in the slow-moving, gently swaying, overly warm carriage that smelled like a deli. To make matters worse, I assumed, after watching the train’s randomly interrupted progress, that the “Arrival Time” printed on my ticket was just a space filler.
Somehow I stayed awake or jolted awake, and incredibly, we pulled into Sighisoara within 5 minutes of “On Time,” albeit long after a regular train would have arrived. Experience, luck, or sophisticated computer modeling of decades of Personal train disembarkation data must have assisted this scheduling miracle.
However they did it, I was impressed with the punctuality, amused by my fellow personal travelers, and most importantly, after a massive wreck the day before on a Romanian Intercity train, happy to be safely delivered to my destination.
I only wished I had my 7 Lei back.
(Ken Jackson, of Birmingham, Ala., is a retired American lawyer who worked in Hong Kong and traveled throughout Asia for 20 years. He is now a freelance writer.)
Ken Jackson
Jingpeng China Steam Tours - Once More With Feeling
By Bruce Anderson
I never thought I would venture to China. It wasn’t even on my radar.
But then I read about the discovery of what became known to railfans around the world as the Jingpeng Pass. Under the ownership of the JiTong Railway, this 587-mile line was built new in 1995 for 100 percent steam operation, complete with semaphore signaling, steam depots and steam-servicing points. At its height, the line owned 116 QJ (Qian Jin – “Progress”) class 2-10-2 locomotives.
But how to experience it? Trips to China outside the main cities and tourist areas seemed to be something to be endured—few travelers would contemplate such a visit purely for fun. Most tour brochures included either domestic flights on airlines with dubious safety records, long bus slogs on poor roads, local overnight trains with no private accommodations or all of the above.
But then along came the English company GW Travel and its plan to run “The Jingpeng China Orient Express,” a hotel train that would carry participants in style and comfort to the various remaining steam sights in China. Their inaugural trip was in 2002, repeated in subsequent years through 2005.
As a result, I was fortunate to experience Chinese steam twice. In March of 2003, and again in November of 2004, I packed all my cold-weather gear, including hand- and toe-warmers and as many western-style snacks as I could stow, and headed for China. In addition to visiting the JiTong Railway, we would see several other industrial lines still using steam. While some of the regions we visited were by then used to seeing western “big noses,” when we turned up in some remote areas we might has well have been from another planet.
An example was Xilinhot, site of a massive coal mine. A brand-new branch line was constructed to help open the area for settlement and service the mine. A beautiful new station built in the Mongolian style was surrounded by, well, nothing. The rest of the city hadn’t been built yet! We were the first tour group ever to go there and used the first steam locomotive to cover the line.
What made this tour unique was that we lived the entire time on a full-service passenger train once used by the Chinese Communist party. The “Shangri-La Express” train, the same that is used on the Chinese portion of the Silk Road tour, is ranked in the IRT Society’s top 25.
While not in the “luxury” category, it is nonetheless a first-class, 13-car train with two dining cars, full bar and rooms about the size of an Amtrak Superliner Deluxe Bedroom with upper and lower berths. Sink and hand-held shower were shared between two adjacent cabins, while immaculately clean toilets are located down the hall. Thus constant packing and unpacking are avoided. Two attendants provide 24-hour service. [Editor's note: The Shangri-La Express train has improved the showers on board by removing them from the passenger cabins and including a dedicated shower car to the train's consist. The shower car has eight private compartments, each with changing area and sink.]
While most tours cater to a specific type of clientele, the Jingpeng China Orient Express concept appealed to several types of travelers. Hard-core railfans were not forgotten. Want to get up at 4:30 a.m.? No problem. We were able to step off the train straight to the lineside or waiting chase bus for the morning sunrise shots. Experienced Chinese guides were in constant contact with the railways to determine where trains were running and where the best photographs would be.
Want to sleep in a bit longer? After a hearty western-style breakfast, those choosing that option could join a later departing bus. While nearly every day I opted for what became knows as the “mountaineering group,” often hiking for most of the day, there were many who chose to stay in the relative warmth and comfort of the small lineside buses, getting their shots mainly from the highway.
Still others hardly ever left the train, enjoying the unfolding panorama of the Chinese countryside while sipping their favorite drink in the bar. While some made the trek only for steam trains (quote from one English gentlemen: “if I have to see another one of those blank-blank old buildings, I think I’m going to be sick”), they were in the minority.
Most passengers—railfans included—were excited to take in the main cultural sights. On our first trip, that included Beijing and the Great Wall. On our second trip, the cultural visits again included Beijing, while adding Hong Kong and Xian, with its famous Terra Cotta Warriors, followed that evening by a spectacular Chinese musical performance.
We took most of our meals on the train, Chinese style. A wide variety of items was served, even satisfying this very picky American (although I have to admit, one of seemingly hundreds of KFC’s in Beijing was a welcome sight upon our return to the Chinese capital!). Once we found where they kept the salt, knives and forks, it was bon appetit!
But then suddenly, it was all over. In 2004 diesels began to appear on the pass, first in limited sections but eventually covering most of the line. By 2005 steam was finished. Or so everyone thought. While most of the QJ class locomotives have been scrapped (or in the case of three lucky ones, shipped to the USA), four were retained. Two of these are serviceable today and available for special charter trains. And that’s exactly what is planned for one last trip to northern China in November, 2009.
The tour plans to visit world-famous Jingpeng Pass for two days, using the remaining serviceable QJ’s on regularly scheduled freight workings. In addition, visits to the best industrial lines still using steam are planned. Narrow gauge is not forgotten, with a scheduled visit to the Huanan coal railway near the Russian boarder.
As of this writing, all of the lines included in this year’s tour still have regular steam, although it can’t last forever. Should changes be forced by the takeover of the evil diesels, tour organizers have promised to do their best to provide a suitable alternative. Railways on the 2009 itinerary include:
• Jixi collieries using SY 2-8-2’s Jalainur opencast pit with multiple SY locomotives hauling trains on various levels
• Nanpiao coal line using SY’s on both freight and passenger operations
• Huanan narrow-gauge coal railway
• Tiefa, with its intensive passenger service and the possibility of using steam on a normally diesel-hauled coal train
• Also planned is a visit to the fine railway museum in Beijing and a tour of the northern city of Harbin, which has been referred to as the “Oriental St. Petersburg.”
To quote GW Travel’s president Tim Littler: “Four years ago, we thought Jingpeng steam was over forever, yet we now have what may be a unique chance to briefly revive it. And the rest of Chinese steam is disappearing too. A lot of effort has gone into this, and the JiTong Railway is very expensive…but what price a unique chance? We believe we just have to go for it.”
With the demise of the Union Limited steam tour train in South Africa, I can’t think of anywhere else in the world where you can still combine hoteling on a comfortable passenger train with the emphasis on steam railway photography.
After 2005, no one thought it could happen again…until now. I’m seriously thinking of going one more time. Maybe I’ll see you on board.
(IRT Society Pullman Club member Bruce Anderson is a regular contributor to The International Railway Traveler. He lives in Michigan.)
A gust of wind chases autumn leaves around the pavement. The flash of yellow and gold leaves and purple heather in the intense sunlight comes as a surprise, considering that we’re wedged in between three deserts. I’m just about to catch the perfect video clip of the Golden Eagle Trans-Siberian Express gliding into Dostyk, Kazakhstan.
We’re standing on the platform of Kazakhstan’s border town with China’s Xinjiang province. In 21 days, we will have covered over 7,000 miles, from Beijing to Moscow, traversing some of the most inhospitable, lowest, hottest terrain on the planet. Until we actually catch some of the sand between our toes and view a dune from our perch on a camel’s back, the magnitude of our journey doesn’t begin to sink in.
This is the famed Silk Route. We’re separated from the world by unforgiving deserts and mountain ranges-the Tian Shan, the Pamirs Karakorum and the Kopa Degh. And to get to places like Mary, Turkmenistan, by way of Samarkand and Bukara in Uzbekistan and Almaty in Kazakhstan, you must have the proper visas. Camels can walk across these borders easier than tourists. Traveling by private train is one of the few ways you can get there.
The Golden Eagle Trans-Siberian Express We hail 90 west-to-east passengers emerging from their shiny blue compartments of the Golden Eagle Trans-Siberian Express, assisted by smartly uniformed Russian railway car attendants. They’ve just finished the first half of their trek which began in Moscow with stops in Volgograd, Khiva, Samarkand, Bukara, Almaty and Tashkent, before switching trains with us to finish the second half of their voyage on ‘our’ train the Shangri-la Express. Ahead of them lies the Tarim Basin, the Gobi Desert, and the Mogao’s Buddhist caves, carved between 1500 and 1600 years ago. In Xian, 6000 terracotta warriors await their arrival. They’ll finish up where we began - at the Peninsula Hotel in Beijing, China’s 21st century capital and home to the 2008 Summer Olympics.
East-bound passengers will be learning to use chopsticks just about the time that we’re getting comfy in a Kazakh yurt. In the flurry of video and picture-taking with Kazakstan’s neatly turned-out border guards, we gather up our plunder - silks from Xian and pashminas from Turpan - before boarding the Golden Eagle Express. The blue and gold compartments are a welcome sight: all three categories are comfortable: Heritage class with twin beds Silver Class with a double bed, and additional overhead bunk, a private shower and toilet facilities, closet, and TV/Video/CD player. Gold Class offers a little more closet space and shower space than Silver Class plus easy access to the bar car and the Gold Dining Car. Generous serving of vodka, unlimited wine with meals served in crystal stemware, caviar and sturgeon for our welcome and farewell dinners, 24 hour coffee and tea service in our compartments - such luxurious details - can be distracting. We’re traversing the harshest of deserts and mountain passes in the protective cocoon of our air-conditioned private train.
Desert Surprises If you think train travel over several thousand miles of desert might be boring, it isn’t. In fact, most of my assumptions about this little-known part of the world are proven wrong.
Oasis towns like Turpan in Xinjiang, China are lush and brimming with vineyards. Poplar trees line the newly constructed asphalt Silk Road highway. In Samarkand, nothing is quite as exotic as the haute-couture-clad Uzbeki models tearing up the catwalk during our private fashion show in a merchant’s former private palace.
Almaty, Kazakhstan’s modern capital city, is the antithesis of rustic. It may be where the apple originated, but you’ll find more stretch limos here than apple orchards. We’re entertained in a carpeted yurt restaurant, but the performers sing arias just as proficiently as traditional folksongs.
Food in Central Asia is also a pleasant surprise. For local lunches and dinners, we’re served hearty soups, spiced meats and plentiful vegetables with rice pilaf and fresh pita bread. Most meals begin with a plate of pickled raw vegetables such as cucumbers and beets, local cheeses and olives. Sweet melons and dried fruits are specialties of these oases towns.
“We are the lowest, the hottest, and the sweetest place on earth,” is how Zeba, a Turpan resident guide, describes her oasis home in the Taklimakan desert. The desert offers up a few, but not all, of its secrets.
The ‘Loulan Beauty’ At the Urumchi Provincial museum in China’s Xinjiang province, we meet the ‘Loulan Beauty’. This blond-haired Indo-European petrified corpse was officially dated at 3,700-years-old, yet some archeologists believe she may be even older.
The 2,300-year-old ruins of Jiaohe city near Turpan used to be a Han-era garrison town built to fend off northern marauders. This complex of carefully laid-out city streets has been described as “the largest, oldest and best-preserved earthen city in the world.”
I’m no history expert. My Tang and Han dynasty dates usually get twisted up in a knot, but of one thing, I’m dead certain: As soon as this trip ends, I’ll want to hop right back on the train and see it all again.
(When not traveling, Chris Card Fuller divides her time between France and Rochester, N.Y. While in France, she shares her insider’s perspective and advice about visiting Paris at her website www.parislogue.com.)
Additional costs: The program cost includes everything, except for international air, five visas which cost about $850, and required travel insurance.
Things to know: The Silk Road tour is fabulous but physically demanding. There are many sightseeing stops in remote areas, steps, lots of walking, and some long days. This trip uses five-star deluxe hotels in both Beijing and Moscow. The trip includes 10 nights on the deluxe, ensuite Golden Eagle Trans-Siberian Express. Meals and service are excellent. Six nights are on the Chinese private train, the Shangri-La Express. Each two compartments on the Chinese train share a washroom with a sink. The toilets are down the hall. The train features a purpose-built shower car. The meals served on board and service are adequate. IRT recommends upgrading to Gold Class on this journey. This gives the traveler the most deluxe class on the Russian train and two adjoining compartments on the Chinese train.
Availability: All departures currently are available. For more information: See pages 21-23 of “The IRT Society’s Best-Loved Railway Journeys 2008.” To obtain a copy, click here.
El Transcantábrico: Northern Spain by Luxury Train
By Jacqueline Ruyak
When I told a friend last November where I was going for a week, his response was, “Spain? Now that’s a country I could eat and drink my way through.” For me, the more immediate lure was the luxury train El Transcantábrico. Scheduled visits to the pilgrimage site of Santiago de Compostela, the cave paintings of Altamira and the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao made the trip only more enticing.
Dinner the first night, at a restaurant called O Parrulo, showed me, though, how prescient my friend had been. Start to finish the meal was superb, but two dishes stood out. One was fresh scallops served with scallop roe, a longtime favorite which I had never seen outside of Japan. The other was a plate heaped with delicate-pink sweet shrimps, a deep orange-red crab, and, new to me, percebes, or gooseneck barnacles, looking like diminutive dinosaur feet. A local delicacy, they tasted bewitchingly of the sea. It was all bliss, especially when paired with some outstanding local wines.
Spain’s First Luxury Train Spain’s first luxury train, El Transcantábrico celebrates its 25th anniversary this year. It runs about 373 miles across northern Spain, from León to Bilbao, passing through the four regions of Galicia, Cantabria, Asturias and Euskadi (Basque Country). Isolated by mountains, this is the part of Spain which the Moors did not reach. Its rugged mountains, lush meadows and tidy fields have earned it the nickname Green Spain, and many of its people still make a living from the sea or land.
El Transcantábrico is owned and operated by narrow-gauge FEVE (Ferrocarriles de Via Estrecha). FEVE runs across northern Spain and, for a short stretch, in the Murcia autonomous region, on the Mediterranean Sea. With 787 miles of track carrying both passenger and freight trains, FEVE controls the largest narrow-gauge rail network in Europe. (Spain’s other railway, RENFE, covers the entire country with broad “Iberian” gauge and its standard-gauge, high-speed AVE services.)
Until 1999, there was only one Transcantábrico. Owing to demand, a second train debuted in 2000. I was on the newer train, and it was lovely. Virtually identical, the sleek cream and blue trains now crisscross the standard route.
Each train set has four public cars: two lounges, one of which serves as a dining car for breakfast, a bar car and a “disco” car with live music and a dance floor. Originally1920s-era British Pullman coaches, they have been restored to their original décor. A computer with free Internet access, newspapers, books, magazines, games and a TV are also available for passenger use.
Nights in the disco car—and at quiet sidings On most nights there was dancing in the disco car, at the far end of the train, with music in part provided by the train staffers, who sang and played guitar. Nights are spent on the train parked at stations, which means that local nightlife is also accessible for those wishing to explore.
Breakfasts, the only meals served on the train, are basic: usually eggs, cold cuts, yogurt, sliced white bread, juice and coffee or tea. All other meals are at first-class restaurants along the way, each one with its own specialties and seasonal dishes. Menus are chosen by El Transcantábrico, but dietary restrictions and preferences are no problem.
Two engines are used: a diesel-electric, from Ferrol to Balmaseda, and a diesel, from Balmaseda to León. Patented by FEVE, the electric hybrid is unique in Europe.
Passenger cars are constructed from 1960’s MAN carriages from Germany. Capacity is 52 persons. There are 26 compartments, each with a double bed and bathroom. Because the train is narrow-gauge, space is a bit scant, most noticeably in the corridors. The built-in double bed measures about six by four feet. Three compartments are also equipped with a bunk, for those who wish to sleep separately or for couples with a child under 12. (Children under 12 get a 50 per cent discount.) The bathroom has a shower equipped with hydro-sauna, turbo-massage and steam bath.
The tiptop crew includes a train driver, technicians and maintenance workers, servers and berth attendants, staff manager, security guards, guide, bus driver and tour manager. Ana, our fulltime guide, was excellent, juggling questions, demands and minor emergencies with grace, all in English, the operative language of our group. Both fulltime and local guides are, at the very least, bilingual. Passengers, I was told, tend to be sophisticated travelers, often freelance professionals, executives, entrepreneurs and, increasingly, families and honeymooners.
In the tracks of a coal train The typical Transcantábrico journey is eight days and seven nights, starting in Santiago de Compostela and ending in León, or vice-versa. From León to Bilbao the train follows the route of the La Robla, a famed 19th-century coal train that early on carried coal to industrial Bilbao and later transported thousands of migrating rural workers
Unlike the rest of the country, northern Spain has no flamenco or bullfighting, and the weather is not always good, said Isabel, our droll, knowledgeable local guide in Ferrol, where we spent our first night. From sea to mountains, its moods are storm-tossed Atlantic rather than sunny Mediterranean. If last November was typical, the climate is distinctly milder than in the American northeast, though the weather is just as changeable. Each region we visited had a distinct charm of its own and a fierce spirit of local pride.
Galicia, for example, boasts Celtic roots and a rich maritime history. The region’s traditional instrument is the bagpipe, and an international bagpipe festival is held there each summer. Galicia is also famed for its excellent seafood and beautiful fjord-like inlets or rias.
My trip, for six days and nights, went from Ferrol, in Galicia, to Bilbao, the largest city in the Basque region. Passengers came together at the train Sunday afternoon. Ferrol is built on a strategic ria, and a sunset ferry ride introduced us to the city, famed for its 18th-century arsenals, handsome Neo-Classical architecture and working dry dock. Back on the train that evening after that first memorable dinner, I drifted to sleep, musing, most improbably, about Spanish galleons.
Lunch and sightseeing Monday, the first full day, more or less defined the days to come. The wake bell, rung by one of the techs coming through the carriages, reminded me of time spent in Zen temples in Japan. But this bell was usually at eight, not four a.m. Breakfast was served from 8:30 to 9:30, then we all boarded an El Transcantábrico coach to go sightseeing in La Coruña before heading for Santiago de Compostela. After a guided tour of the famed cathedral, we had a long lunch at the parador (national inn) on the main square, then took the coach back to the train.
Among the many images from Galicia that remain: the elegant galerias, glassed-in balconies, of La Coruña, where Picasso once lived, and the distinctive pillared granaries called hórreos. In Santiago de Compostela all roads lead to the 11th-century cathedral dedicated to St. James, whose symbol is a scallop shell. Also unforgettable: countless gooseneck barnacles, protected by law from unlicensed harvesting, deep in the rocky recesses of a sandy cove near Ribadeo.
Misty fields, tiny villages, starry skies Back on the train late Monday afternoon, we finally took to the rails. All train travel is done by day, usually in the early morning and evening. In between, the coach carried us to a variety of towns and villages not accessible by rail. By the time we left Ferrol station, I was ecstatic to be moving and stayed in my compartment, watching misty fields and rias, nameless villages and stations slip away. When night fell, I looked for stars in the sky.
Keep in mind that the distance covered by the train is under 400 miles. I easily drive that much in one day. What the El Transcantábrico offers is concentrated doses of rail travel in a superb setting. The train does an excellent job of introducing the multi-faceted culture and cuisine of northern Spain.
Wide windows in each compartment afford great views of land and sea along the way. Each compartment has handsome wood paneling, air conditioning, a mini-bar, loudspeaker system and telephone with inside and outside lines. Music is piped in but can be controlled. Even better, the pillows were good and plentiful and the lighting was outstanding. Both made an immense difference when I badly sprained a knee and had to take a day and half off to nurse it.
By then we were traveling through the regions of Asturias and Cantabria. Yes, I missed seeing colonial Oviedo and Gijon, as well as the spectacular Picos de Europa massif, which straddles Asturias, Cantabria and Castilla-León. Instead, I got a “private” ride one morning on the Transcantábrico, through the rain-soaked countryside and to the train yard at El Berrón. I also enjoyed a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the crew at work, checking plumbing and lighting, swabbing floors and cleaning.
Eating their way through Asturias Timing is all. Lunch that afternoon was catered on the train, as we rode from Oviedo to Arriondas. Ana the guide got the servers to bring my lunch to my thoroughly comfortable compartment. It was perhaps the best meal of the trip: cockle mousse, wild mushrooms with crab meat, an Asturian stew of haricot beans and sausage called fabada and rice pudding. With a bottle of Spanish red wine, Miles Davis playing in the background, and the mysterious northern landscape unfolding beyond the window, it was a sublime afternoon.
Later I read in an Asturian guidebook, “You can eat very well in Asturias and better every day.” To me, it summed up the cuisine of northern Spain. Among the food memories courtesy of the El Transcantábrico: at Goizeko Kabi in Bilbao, an exquisite piece of hake; in Santiago, a delectable sorbet made from orujo gallego, a local spirit; at the Ribadeo parador (national inn), cockles and mussels; at Sport in the scenic fishing village of Luarca, hake pie, octopus stew and a magical view; and everywhere, excellent breads and cheeses.
Museums ruled the last two days. First was the haunting Caves Museum, next to the famed Altamira Caves, which are no longer open to the public. The paintings, however, are replicated at the museum. Last was the Guggenheim in Bilbao, the largest Basque city and an important port, with a feisty charm. Designed by Frank Gehry, the museum is a marvel; its Richard Serra permanent installation is dizzying.
Rail fans will delight in beautiful Concordia Station, which serves FEVE in Bilbao. Built in 1898, it has a splendid Art Nouveau façade. A more recent attraction is the metro system, designed by Sir Norman Foster. Its futuristic entrances, resembling glass caterpillars, have been dubbed fosteritos by the appreciative people of Bilbao.
Northern Spain, I later learned, is where savvy Spaniards go when they vacation in their own country. No wonder. My first trip to Spain, it turned out to be a series of mouthwatering, eye-opening experiences, all thanks to the fabulous El Transcantábrico.
(Asia Editor Jacqueline Ruyak, of Hellertown, Penn., divides her time between the United States and Japan.)
Additional information: Santiago is reached by a short flight from Madrid or an almost 7.5-hour non-stop trip by Talgo train from Madrid Chamartin station or reverse daily except Sunday. Another option: the daily nine-hour hotel train, arriving Santiago about 7:45 a.m. León-Madrid rail service is plentiful; fastest is the three-hour Alaris. Historic parador extensions pre- and post-tour highly recommended, as well as additional sightseeing in Santiago.
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