This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/world/guardianwitness-blog/2014/oct/01/leaving-on-a-night-train-the-best-long-distance-rail-journeys
The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
Previous version
1
Next version
| Version 0 | Version 1 |
|---|---|
| Leaving on a night train: the best long-distance rail journeys | Leaving on a night train: the best long-distance rail journeys |
| (6 months later) | |
| The news that a worrying number of Europe’s night trains are being shunted off into history, the victim of changing habits and low-cost airlines, was met with dismay by those who find long-distance train travel the finest way to explore the world. | The news that a worrying number of Europe’s night trains are being shunted off into history, the victim of changing habits and low-cost airlines, was met with dismay by those who find long-distance train travel the finest way to explore the world. |
| We asked Guardian readers to share their memories of treasured night train journeys, and they didn’t disappoint. For all those desk-bound budding Paul Therouxs out there, the accounts below may inspire you to follow suit. | We asked Guardian readers to share their memories of treasured night train journeys, and they didn’t disappoint. For all those desk-bound budding Paul Therouxs out there, the accounts below may inspire you to follow suit. |
| The Trans-Siberian Express | The Trans-Siberian Express |
| Perhaps the most famous long-distance train journey of them all. You can go from Moscow all the way to Vladivostok if you’re feeling restless (and, from there, perhaps a ferry to Japan), or head into China via the Trans-Mongiolian. Just make sure you pay for the vodka, warns SamKinchinSmith. | Perhaps the most famous long-distance train journey of them all. You can go from Moscow all the way to Vladivostok if you’re feeling restless (and, from there, perhaps a ferry to Japan), or head into China via the Trans-Mongiolian. Just make sure you pay for the vodka, warns SamKinchinSmith. |
| 4am lock-in in the Trans-Siberian restaurant carriage | 4am lock-in in the Trans-Siberian restaurant carriage |
| This was taken on the second night of the four-day journey between Moscow and Irkutsk - stage one of the Trans-Siberian - earlier this year. Pictured alongside my girlfriend and I are a Canadian ex-soldier, an Irish architect named Carthage, and two members of the train staff. We bonded with the man, Valentin, with very little common language, by talking about Roman Pavlyuchenko and playing chess, at which he excelled; and we befriended the waitress, whose name I can't remember, by rolling her cigarettes which she assumed were joints. A couple of hours in, we started drinking their vodka - we assumed it was on the house - and we didn't stop until we'd got through at least three bottles, shots interspersed with slabs of spam dressed with orange roe, and pickled fish, courtesy of a scary Siberian cook. We smoked a lot of tobacco and talked about Irish bungalow architecture. Then we woke up in our bunks, fully dressed, incomprehensibly confused about where we were, as our train pulled into Novosibirsk. Another member of the train staff was knocking, loudly, on the door of our kupe. The vodka wasn't on the house and Carthage and Richard the Canadian had got off the train in Novosibirsk and weren't getting back on and we didn't have anything like enough cash to pay for it all and my head hurts and I think I'm going to be sick several times and I'm on this goddam train for two more days and all in all, it was a pretty good night. | This was taken on the second night of the four-day journey between Moscow and Irkutsk - stage one of the Trans-Siberian - earlier this year. Pictured alongside my girlfriend and I are a Canadian ex-soldier, an Irish architect named Carthage, and two members of the train staff. We bonded with the man, Valentin, with very little common language, by talking about Roman Pavlyuchenko and playing chess, at which he excelled; and we befriended the waitress, whose name I can't remember, by rolling her cigarettes which she assumed were joints. A couple of hours in, we started drinking their vodka - we assumed it was on the house - and we didn't stop until we'd got through at least three bottles, shots interspersed with slabs of spam dressed with orange roe, and pickled fish, courtesy of a scary Siberian cook. We smoked a lot of tobacco and talked about Irish bungalow architecture. Then we woke up in our bunks, fully dressed, incomprehensibly confused about where we were, as our train pulled into Novosibirsk. Another member of the train staff was knocking, loudly, on the door of our kupe. The vodka wasn't on the house and Carthage and Richard the Canadian had got off the train in Novosibirsk and weren't getting back on and we didn't have anything like enough cash to pay for it all and my head hurts and I think I'm going to be sick several times and I'm on this goddam train for two more days and all in all, it was a pretty good night. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By SamKinchinSmith | |
| 12 September 2014, 17:47 | 12 September 2014, 17:47 |
| Fellow travellers | Fellow travellers |
| Twenty-nine hours – this is how long it takes to arrive from Astrakhan to Moscow by train; by plane – it’s two and a half. How unfortunate it is to sacrifice those twenty-nine hours for two and a half in order to “save time”! Time does not exist in trains. There is nowhere to rush. It’s time for books, long conversations, staring at the slowly changing landscape and consuming an impressive amount of food supplies. Yes, trains must be a nightmare for introverts and diet freaks. Although, there is an escape – upper berth, where one can just stare at the sky through a dusty window right above the head. | Twenty-nine hours – this is how long it takes to arrive from Astrakhan to Moscow by train; by plane – it’s two and a half. How unfortunate it is to sacrifice those twenty-nine hours for two and a half in order to “save time”! Time does not exist in trains. There is nowhere to rush. It’s time for books, long conversations, staring at the slowly changing landscape and consuming an impressive amount of food supplies. Yes, trains must be a nightmare for introverts and diet freaks. Although, there is an escape – upper berth, where one can just stare at the sky through a dusty window right above the head. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Raisa Tarasova | |
| 13 September 2014, 16:59 | 13 September 2014, 16:59 |
| The Caledonian Sleeper | The Caledonian Sleeper |
| Go to sleep in a carriage at London Euston, wake up among the moors and mountains of the Scottish Highlands. The train (or rather, portions of it - it divides at Edinburgh) also travels to Aberdeen and Inverness, but the line up to Fort William is the one with the most spectacular scenery. | Go to sleep in a carriage at London Euston, wake up among the moors and mountains of the Scottish Highlands. The train (or rather, portions of it - it divides at Edinburgh) also travels to Aberdeen and Inverness, but the line up to Fort William is the one with the most spectacular scenery. |
| Highland sleeper at dusk | Highland sleeper at dusk |
| "...Arrochar & Tarbet, Ardlui, Crianlarich, Upper Tyndrum, Rannoch, Corrour, Tulloch, Roy Bridge, Spean Bridge, and Fort William." No other train from London has such a magical list of calling points as the West Highland portion of the Caledonian Sleeper. | "...Arrochar & Tarbet, Ardlui, Crianlarich, Upper Tyndrum, Rannoch, Corrour, Tulloch, Roy Bridge, Spean Bridge, and Fort William." No other train from London has such a magical list of calling points as the West Highland portion of the Caledonian Sleeper. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Justin Perkins | |
| 16 September 2014, 9:52 | 16 September 2014, 9:52 |
| A Highland Safari, from the warmth of the dining car! | A Highland Safari, from the warmth of the dining car! |
| In my mind, there is no view more captivating than the ever-changing vista from the picture windows of the dining car, as the night train from London Euston to Fort William snakes its way through forests, glens and mountains, on the last leg of its journey to the West Highland capital. On a November morning, sunlight streams in through the picture windows to reveal towering peaks crowned with snow, peaty moors clothed in the deep red cloak of autumn, jewelled with glittering frost, and lochs studded with ice. This wondrous scene is completed by the lone stags, standing sentinel on rugged knolls in the peat, proudly displaying their horns to the amazed travellers. | In my mind, there is no view more captivating than the ever-changing vista from the picture windows of the dining car, as the night train from London Euston to Fort William snakes its way through forests, glens and mountains, on the last leg of its journey to the West Highland capital. On a November morning, sunlight streams in through the picture windows to reveal towering peaks crowned with snow, peaty moors clothed in the deep red cloak of autumn, jewelled with glittering frost, and lochs studded with ice. This wondrous scene is completed by the lone stags, standing sentinel on rugged knolls in the peat, proudly displaying their horns to the amazed travellers. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Edward Millband | |
| 16 September 2014, 0:28 | 16 September 2014, 0:28 |
| Night trains through Scandanavia | Night trains through Scandanavia |
| The ‘Climate Express’ to Copenhagen is being discontinued in November, but there are still other atmospheric routes to consider. “Nothing compares to waking up because of the alpine cold as the train barrels its way across the Hardangervidda, the highest plateau in Europe,” says Kevin Lo. | The ‘Climate Express’ to Copenhagen is being discontinued in November, but there are still other atmospheric routes to consider. “Nothing compares to waking up because of the alpine cold as the train barrels its way across the Hardangervidda, the highest plateau in Europe,” says Kevin Lo. |
| Waking Up to Summer Snow | Waking Up to Summer Snow |
| I'd heard tales about the night train from Oslo to Bergen, but nothing compares to waking up because of the alpine cold as the train barrels its way across the Hardangervidda, the highest plateau in Europe. Bathed in moonlight, I spent two hours in the middle of the night dazzled by the moonlight shining off of the July snow. As little congealed hamlets zip by, the train snakes through 182 wooden tunnels before pulling into warm and rainy Bergen. | I'd heard tales about the night train from Oslo to Bergen, but nothing compares to waking up because of the alpine cold as the train barrels its way across the Hardangervidda, the highest plateau in Europe. Bathed in moonlight, I spent two hours in the middle of the night dazzled by the moonlight shining off of the July snow. As little congealed hamlets zip by, the train snakes through 182 wooden tunnels before pulling into warm and rainy Bergen. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Kevin Lo | |
| 12 September 2014, 20:13 | 12 September 2014, 20:13 |
| The Kolari-Helsinki sleeper north of the Arctic Circle | The Kolari-Helsinki sleeper north of the Arctic Circle |
| I make no apologies for the photo quality, taken at speed from the dining car of the Kolari-Helsinki sleeper. It's north of the Arctic Circle, and the train was running alongside the frozen Muonio river. The trees in the distance were in Sweden as the river forms the border between Finland and Sweden. | I make no apologies for the photo quality, taken at speed from the dining car of the Kolari-Helsinki sleeper. It's north of the Arctic Circle, and the train was running alongside the frozen Muonio river. The trees in the distance were in Sweden as the river forms the border between Finland and Sweden. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Noam1 | |
| 14 September 2014, 17:09 | 14 September 2014, 17:09 |
| Taking one of the surviving Amtrack lines | Taking one of the surviving Amtrack lines |
| American is more synonymous with the open road, but there are still some venerable trains operating on long distance routes. Just make sure you don’t get stuck behind a freight train... | American is more synonymous with the open road, but there are still some venerable trains operating on long distance routes. Just make sure you don’t get stuck behind a freight train... |
| Amtrak: real people, real lives. | Amtrak: real people, real lives. |
| On our honeymoon we thought it would be fun to take an overnight train to New York from Chicago. Little did we know freight trains take priority and when we awoke in the morning we discovered we had been sat in siding for 6 hours and had only travelled a few 100 miles which we discussed over some French toast with these lovely ladies. | On our honeymoon we thought it would be fun to take an overnight train to New York from Chicago. Little did we know freight trains take priority and when we awoke in the morning we discovered we had been sat in siding for 6 hours and had only travelled a few 100 miles which we discussed over some French toast with these lovely ladies. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By boneymarone | |
| 22 September 2014, 8:43 | 22 September 2014, 8:43 |
| Across China | Across China |
| China have announced plenty of continent-straddling high speed rail projects, including a mooted line from Beijing to the west coast of America via Canada, Alaska and Russia. In the meantime, travelling across China by sleeper train is still an adventure. | China have announced plenty of continent-straddling high speed rail projects, including a mooted line from Beijing to the west coast of America via Canada, Alaska and Russia. In the meantime, travelling across China by sleeper train is still an adventure. |
| First Class, Chinese style | First Class, Chinese style |
| Soft Sleeper (or, First Class sleeper) on the Guilin, Guangxi to Chengdu, Sichuan in China in 2013. Not the top of luxury but it was more than adequate for the 25 hour journey, one of the better beds I've slept on in China. | Soft Sleeper (or, First Class sleeper) on the Guilin, Guangxi to Chengdu, Sichuan in China in 2013. Not the top of luxury but it was more than adequate for the 25 hour journey, one of the better beds I've slept on in China. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Historianista | |
| 14 September 2014, 12:23 | 14 September 2014, 12:23 |
| Hong Kong to London | Hong Kong to London |
| My girlfriend and I left Hong Kong in November 2009 and travelled back to London by train. | My girlfriend and I left Hong Kong in November 2009 and travelled back to London by train. |
| Hong Kong overnight to Beijing with a snoring Chinese man and lovely countryside, and the always satisfying Chinese train food. Five days in freezing but clear Beijing before boarding the Transmanchurian to Moscow. As we waited at Beijing South, a fellow traveller asked if we had sorted out Belarus transit visas for the Moscow-Berlin leg of our journey. We had not, and spent the next six nights and six days worrying about how we were going to get out of Russia before our visas expired. We had a first-class compartment to ourselves, ended up going into a total trance - "like being in hospital without being sick" according to my girlfriend. Bought cans of beer on the platform at Harbin that were literally frozen. The dining car is swapped at the border, which we didn't realise until we walked in and heard banging Russian techno. We took US dollars but found we couldn't use them - the guard introduced us to a money changer at the border but we didn't buy enough. Had to sprint to an ATM during a 20 minute stop in order to avoid starvation. Got drunk on vodka with some Brits who were off to Lake Baikal (which was stunning). So cold that the snot in your nose would freeze every time you stepped off during a stop, although this didn't stop the buffet car girl going for a fag in hot pants. When we arrived in Moscow we were totally disoriented. | Hong Kong overnight to Beijing with a snoring Chinese man and lovely countryside, and the always satisfying Chinese train food. Five days in freezing but clear Beijing before boarding the Transmanchurian to Moscow. As we waited at Beijing South, a fellow traveller asked if we had sorted out Belarus transit visas for the Moscow-Berlin leg of our journey. We had not, and spent the next six nights and six days worrying about how we were going to get out of Russia before our visas expired. We had a first-class compartment to ourselves, ended up going into a total trance - "like being in hospital without being sick" according to my girlfriend. Bought cans of beer on the platform at Harbin that were literally frozen. The dining car is swapped at the border, which we didn't realise until we walked in and heard banging Russian techno. We took US dollars but found we couldn't use them - the guard introduced us to a money changer at the border but we didn't buy enough. Had to sprint to an ATM during a 20 minute stop in order to avoid starvation. Got drunk on vodka with some Brits who were off to Lake Baikal (which was stunning). So cold that the snot in your nose would freeze every time you stepped off during a stop, although this didn't stop the buffet car girl going for a fag in hot pants. When we arrived in Moscow we were totally disoriented. |
| The Belarus visa failure was a blessing in disguise as we then took the Latvian Express overnight to Riga. This was the most luxurious train I've ever been on. Great food and TVs in the bar playing Latvian pop music, which is rather good. Very relieved to be back in the EU. Riga was great. Then on to Vilnius, Warsaw and Berlin by day train (and a 4 hour bus, cheating I know). We lost a few of the days we'd planned to spend in Berlin but still liked it enough to move there a couple of months later. | The Belarus visa failure was a blessing in disguise as we then took the Latvian Express overnight to Riga. This was the most luxurious train I've ever been on. Great food and TVs in the bar playing Latvian pop music, which is rather good. Very relieved to be back in the EU. Riga was great. Then on to Vilnius, Warsaw and Berlin by day train (and a 4 hour bus, cheating I know). We lost a few of the days we'd planned to spend in Berlin but still liked it enough to move there a couple of months later. |
| Berlin to Paris overnight on the City Line. Stranded because of the big Eurostar freeze, eating kebabs in bed in a 30 euro garret near Gare du Nord. Finally got back to the UK by train and ferry, Dunkirk spirit. | Berlin to Paris overnight on the City Line. Stranded because of the big Eurostar freeze, eating kebabs in bed in a 30 euro garret near Gare du Nord. Finally got back to the UK by train and ferry, Dunkirk spirit. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By bananawater | |
| 12 September 2014, 19:07 | 12 September 2014, 19:07 |
| Exploring India and Pakistan | Exploring India and Pakistan |
| Sunset in Sindh | Sunset in Sindh |
| Hearing the sunset's Islamic call to prayer, waving to the railway children and swiftly passing through multiple cities and lives is the best way to start your evening. | Hearing the sunset's Islamic call to prayer, waving to the railway children and swiftly passing through multiple cities and lives is the best way to start your evening. |
| Travelling across a country via trains, may not be the most efficient way to travel but it is most definitely the best in terms of gaining an 'authentic' experience. | Travelling across a country via trains, may not be the most efficient way to travel but it is most definitely the best in terms of gaining an 'authentic' experience. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By SalihaM | |
| 21 September 2014, 15:04 | 21 September 2014, 15:04 |
| Food on a night train through Vietnam | Food on a night train through Vietnam |
| Dinner from the mystery food trolley - Vietnam | |
| Getting some dinner involved pointing a various bits of meat on sticks and hoping for the best! It was a cheap and tasty meal that set us up for the 15 hour journey ahead, and kept us guessing about what we'd eaten... | Getting some dinner involved pointing a various bits of meat on sticks and hoping for the best! It was a cheap and tasty meal that set us up for the 15 hour journey ahead, and kept us guessing about what we'd eaten... |
| The first night train I'd ever taken as part of a 5 week trip through Cambodia and Vietnam. Going from Hue to Hanoi I shared the 4 bed birth with a friend and, on the bottom two berths, a Vietnamese family of 4. Luckily for us, the 2 children (one only 18 months old) were incredibly well behaved and everyone got a good night's sleep. | The first night train I'd ever taken as part of a 5 week trip through Cambodia and Vietnam. Going from Hue to Hanoi I shared the 4 bed birth with a friend and, on the bottom two berths, a Vietnamese family of 4. Luckily for us, the 2 children (one only 18 months old) were incredibly well behaved and everyone got a good night's sleep. |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Rachel Harris | |
| 15 September 2014, 16:14 | 15 September 2014, 16:14 |
| Doing a Woody Guthrie, and riding the Boxcar | Doing a Woody Guthrie, and riding the Boxcar |
| We here at the Guardian don’t in any way encourage this kind of behaviour, but one reader’s memory of youthful trips under the stars deserved inclusion. The most enjoyable aspect of this tale? The station master’s assistance. I can’t quite imagine that happening today. | We here at the Guardian don’t in any way encourage this kind of behaviour, but one reader’s memory of youthful trips under the stars deserved inclusion. The most enjoyable aspect of this tale? The station master’s assistance. I can’t quite imagine that happening today. |
| Crossing the Canadian Rockies in an Open Boxcar | Crossing the Canadian Rockies in an Open Boxcar |
| The summer of 1970 saw hordes of unkempt youth roaming the vast Canadian landscape in search of themselves. I was among them. We were a burgeoning demographic bent on discovering ourselves and the world. We stuck out our thumbs, a few of us hopped freight trains. It was an exhilarating, and occasionally dangerous endeavour. | |
| My summer's jaunt from Toronto brought me to Jasper, Alberta. From there I wanted to head west, into the mountains. Late one afternoon three of us sauntered into the train station, asking about the next westward bound train. Eyeing our backpacks and dusty appearance, the station master quickly asked, “Passenger or freight?” “Freight!” my friend blurted. With a twinkle in his eye he leaned over the counter and told us,“Third track over, about two thirds of the way down, you'll find an empty boxcar.” With no further ado, off we scampered, looking for our ride. | |
| Clambering aboard and with no idea when we might be moving, we dug into our packs to see what snacks we had amongst us. Although we had only recently met, it seemed like we had been best buddies since childhood. “Be ready to brace yourself,” my new friend warned. “Freight train couplings are quite loose, and will throw you around when the train starts to move.” He spoke like a seasoned veteran of the rails, yet I doubt he was out of his teens. | |
| Within an hour we were rolling, and climbing. There really is nothing quite like the view from an open boxcar. Forget those “panoramic” train cars. Nothing compares to the feel of the wind, the pine scented aroma, and the steady clickety-clack of steel wheels over the rails as you watch the snow capped Canadian Rockies roll past like never ending eye candy. It was over forty years ago, yet the memory is with me like it was yesterday. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, we heard the distant sound of the head of the train coming to a stop. “Brace yourself!” my friend shouted. We heard each car bang against the next one, front to back, until we were tossed forward. For several minutes we sat, in total silence, with a living room sized view of Mt Robson. The silence was broken with the sound of the giant diesel engines starting up again and once again the freight car couplings banged against each other. We knew what to expect as we held on as best we could. Continuing our westward journey our train rounded a long curve toward the north. It afforded us the perfect view to witness a full moon rising over a distant snow capped peak. | |
| We had no idea where we were headed. My hope was to go to Prince Rupert, a seaport in northern British Columbia, for no reason other than I had never been there before. Instead, as dawn came our train rolled into a freight yard. It was the end of the line for this adventure. We were in Kamloops and another day of exploration awaited. | |
| Sent via Guardian Witness | |
| By Leonard Poole | |
| 12 September 2014, 18:43 | 12 September 2014, 18:43 |
Previous version
1
Next version