Seven days, five countries: My scenic Paris to Istanbul train ride

Euronews

7 hours ago

'So this is the great Orient Express,' says a character in Graham Greene's 1969 novel Travels with My Aunt. 'Maybe it's real luxury travel…for people not in a hurry.'
That novelised version of the famed Paris to Istanbul train was a little run-down, and calamitously, had no restaurant car to sate passengers on its three-day journey. Ttitular Aunt Augusta bemoans the lack of caviar and champagne in which she'd indulged on a previous voyage.
'We practically lived in the dining car. One meal ran into another and night into day.'
Just as Aunt Augusta harkened back to the glory days of train travel, so too does Golden Eagle Luxury Trains. Passengers on its new French-Turkish connection will hardly find themselves going hungry, but they certainly won't be in a rush.
A champagne reception at Gare de Lyon set the inaugural journey off on a footing of opulence and pleasure. While Paris slipped away behind a drizzle of rain, we first travellers were treated to a boozy on-board lunch that portended the extravagance of our seven-day voyage to the Bosphorus.
Coupled to the royal-blue wagon-lits of its Danube Express were two restaurant cars and a bar car, all in full swing, with enough caviar and champagne to last well beyond Istanbul.
Golden Eagle's itinerary touches on many of the locations taken by previous iterations of the multifarious 'Orient Express' trains — Austria, Serbia, Bulgaria — although it traces an original, more languid, sinuous route across the continent.
The train makes additional stops in France's Reims to visit a champagne house, an afternoon at Slovenia's Postojna Cave, spirit-tasting in Belgrade, and a city tour of Sofia.
This was late May (the route is offered in spring and autumn), the perfect time to make a cross-continental crop inspection of Europe. The budding grapevines of France trailed into the soggy barley fields of Austria, to Serbia's parched beans and corn, and Bulgaria's squat, as-yet-faceless sunflowers. Fat Brown Swiss cattle in Alpine pastures begat Croatia's sheep, which gave way to the skinny Dardanelle goats of Turkey.
And every day of the journey, sprouting between the railway ties as though they had been seeded by passing trains, was a festive tri-colour of poppies, butterwort, and early-purple orchids.
Greene's Aunt Augusta was right to say that 'in middle age pleasure begins, pleasure in wine, in love, in food.'
Food was on my mind from the get-go of this trip, and did funny things to my senses. At our stop in Reims, I was happy to hear our guide say, 'We will be visiting the Café Drole.' I was honestly surprised to find us then at the city's cathedral rather than a brasserie.
The statues carved into the church's façade, chewed by acid rain, looked leprotic without various fingers, hands, noses, and toes, and put me in mind of gorgonzola.
The next day, as I passed through Austrian Tyrol, the waiter bent with a basket of bread and asked if I wanted 'The normal, or the terrible kind?' Too curious to refuse, I asked for the terrible, only to find it was, in fact, made with tarragon.
The bread, the butter, the finicky meals, and delicate desserts are judiciously constructed in the cramped swelter of a railcar kitchen. It feels certain that, were it not moving on rails for weeks at a time, the Danube Express restaurant would have a Michelin star or two — that system being predicated on the anonymity of reviewers, who are unlikely to spend a week or more eating at the same establishment.
Yet I could think of nothing better than having my regular breakfast of poached eggs and bacon while passing through Slovenia's Julian Alps, or eating octopus carpaccio, grilled sea bass, and baked mango cheesecake as we traveled south through Croatia, to my left was a wolfish Balkan wood, to my left, fishing boats and Adriatic beach sand.
Each evening, Gábor Viczián, the train's resident musician, would fill the bar car with music — tunes from his native Hungary, the Great American Songbook, and Elton John. One night, the carriage slowly emptied, until it was just the two of us, him at the piano, and me drinking my champagne.
I tried to listen with sincerity while Gábor explained to me how Chopin's modulated romantic chords led to the swing and jazz of Gershwin and Joplin, but between the rocking of the train, the drink, and Gábor's unique spin on the English language, his explanations soon became a little blurry.
In my clear moments, I knew this was a special voyage. As the trip wore on and Istanbul loomed, it became a topic of conversation — the historical connotations of the journey, in literature, film, and the imagination, were inescapable.
The last supper on board, a semi-formal 'black-tie gala,' was held as we rattled between Sofia and Istanbul. I sat with an Australian gentleman, who expressed amazement that everything had gone so well.
'This trip just flowed like wine,' the Australian said. 'Smooth from start to finish.'
Yes, I thought, and the train is the terroir, providing us with everything needed for an excellent trip.
'We can only do so much,' said Tim Littler, Golden Eagle's founder, who travelled with us on the journey. They have refined their mission after years of operations in Europe, Central Asia, and India (new itineraries will soon begin in China, Tibet, and Vietnam).
What is under Golden Eagle's purview — the delicious food, the drinks, the comfortable cabins, the friendly and smiling staff — was better than anyone could ask for.
As in any kind of travel, the rest was up to us passengers. How could the torrential rain we encountered in Vienna be a problem when we had a private orchestral concert waiting for us at the Burgtheater? Why bother over the occasionally spotty Wi-Fi when we had the breadth of Balkan Europe to look out upon?
How could anyone complain about the wait times at the Bulgarian border when the formalities were entirely taken care of by Golden Eagle staff, leaving us free to continue sipping champagne and reading our novels?
The time allotted to us was the true luxury. To paraphrase Greene, this is the great Golden Eagle; it is real luxury travel for people not in a hurry.
The writer was a guest of Golden Eagle Luxury Trains.
I smile as Silvia – our tour leader on Intrepid's eight-day Best of Switzerland rail trip – guides us confidently through Zurich's main station, tickets to Lucerne in hand. Though Italian, Silvia now spends much of her time in Germany and Switzerland, and she navigates the local railway systems with ease.
Trains are arguably the best way to explore Switzerland, renowned for its punctual transport and panoramic vistas. But there's more to train travel than hopping on and enjoying the view: timetables, routes and accommodation along the way. All of these factors require know-how and planning, which can prove challenging for time-strapped travellers.
Consequently, companies such as Byway, which help customers book self-guided train itineraries, are proving very successful.
Yet there's an even easier way to get onboard, thanks to a rise in small-group rail trips like Intrepid's. Here, a knowledgeable guide and the chance to meet like-minded travel companions are added bonuses.
Such benefits inspired me to try my first European Intrepid trip. Driven by a soaring demand for train travel, the small-group adventure company recently launched a rail-based collection spanning old favourites to new itineraries, and it was here that I spotted the Best of Switzerland. Cheese, chocolate and superlative scenery? Swiss bliss indeed.
Switzerland is expensive, and this tour reflects that, with prices starting from €3050. Perhaps due to this, my group was on the older side of Intrepid's demographic: ranging from 60-something Americans to an Aussie in her forties. I am 33 and there was just one person younger than me. Yet, as I often find on these trips, we bonded well despite our various ages and all relished the ride.
We begin with an evening welcome meeting and walk in Zurich, before leaving the next morning. With little time spent in Zurich on the trip, I agree with Intrepid's advice to arrive early and explore.
From fondue spiked with cherry liquor in the old town, to myriad museums and Bahnhofstrasse's dazzling jewellery, you'll find plenty here besides watches and banks. I recommend staying three or four days and buying a Zurich Card, which covers public transport, plus discounted entry to multiple attractions.
Up next was Lucerne, about an hour from Zurich by train. Cue a typically scenic journey, where jagged snowy Alps glint in the distance and buzzards soar overhead, followed by a small city with big charm. An azure lake spanned by wooden bridges, frescoed buildings depicting craftsmen and jesters, medieval cobbled streets and city walls – Lucerne is a true supermodel, right down to its mountain backdrop.
Our two days here also include a 'golden round-trip' Mount Pilatus tour: covering a steamboat cruise across Lake Lucerne, the world's steepest cogwheel railway up to the summit, and finally a gondola back. This is slightly ruined by foggy conditions on Pilatus, but as our next stop, two and a half hours by train from Lucerne would show me, fickle mountain weather is hard to avoid.
Hills dotted with gingerbread chalets, tinkling cowbells, streams rushing through conifer forests; then suddenly fog, mist, a brutal world of rock and snow. Such was my disorientating experience of ascending towards Jungfraujoch, 3454 metres above sea level, in the Eiger Express gondola.
I then catch the Jungfrau Railway – an awesome feat of engineering that saw a tunnel blasted through mountains far above the perennial snow line – and emerge onto the so-called 'Top of Europe', where clear conditions promise a stellar Alpine view.
My view? Snowy blizzards. It's lucky Jungfraujoch has indoor entertainment, including a karst cave and an ice palace, too.
Mountain weather is indeed fickle, but I enjoy our two days of free time in the Jungfrau Region nonetheless. My favourite excursion is Trümmelbach Falls, where subterranean waterfalls plummet through rock ravines in a milky-blue roar. Enhanced by adjacent wildflower meadows, impressionist canvases of purple and yellow, it feels like the setting of a fantasy movie.
The Grindelwald Hotel is also a highlight, with its abundant wood and mellow lighting, as is my cheesy Alpine macaroni in the restaurant. Talking of which, our next stop is cheesy indeed.
After around three hours and two train changes from Grindelwald, we arrive in Bulle: a pretty pastel town in French-speaking Switzerland.
Our final destination is nearby Gruyères, where we visit a small factory to learn more about its renowned hard nutty cheese. This is often used in fondue, and so beloved that it's inspired a tradition of intricately carved wooden Gruyère spoons.
My unsurprising highlight is the tasting, as with the chocolatier we visited afterwards. Chocolate is another product that Switzerland famously makes well, particularly via artisanal makers like Richard Uldry, who sources quality cocoa from places like Peru and São Tomé. After explaining his bean-to-bar process, Richard offers us samples of products like his Gruyère double-cream truffles. Yum
Backed by a massive fang-like mountain that recalls the Matterhorn of old Toblerone packets, Gruyères is as delectable as its food. The red-roofed hilltop town is complete with a medieval château.
It's also home to a bar and museum celebrating sci-fi artist H.R. Giger (best known for his work on the 1979 film Alien) – visiting this during our free time, I enjoy it almost as much as the cheese. Almost.
Alas, all good things come to an end. Our last stop, around a one-hour train ride from Bulle and back into German-speaking Switzerland, is Bern. Home to a UNESCO-listed old town, complete with unusual underground shops, the Swiss capital is also celebrated for its 13th-century clock tower: a landmark whose secrets we learn on an included behind-the-scenes tour.
Saying goodbye to the group over a rösti dinner, I reflect on my first-ever guided rail journey. Granted, it had been 'lazier' than my usual Europe trips, which I navigate with friends or family, but I'd saved several days of planning and met some lovely companions from across the world.
Getting from A to B without worry, thanks to guide Silvia, was also a novelty; after all, mistakes are possible even in Switzerland, especially during tight train changes. I appreciated the mix of included activities and free time too.
Want a multi-stop rail tour without hassle? I believe tours like Intrepid's are just the ticket.
The writer was a guest of Intrepid.