Latest news with #E&OExpress
Time Out
a day ago
- Time Out
We took Southeast Asia's most luxurious sleeper train – here is what it's like
It's gala night aboard Belmond's Eastern & Oriental Express. Guests are gathered in the gilded piano bar car dressed in their best slinky gowns, pressed suits, and a fur coat or two. We're here for one final night of entertainment. Bathed in the warm golden glow of vintage-style lamps, our songstress takes an audience request and swings into 'Top of the World' by the Carpenters, her husky tones gliding over the tinkling piano keys – and always, the soft rush of rails under our feet. It's been an enchanting three days on Southeast Asia's most luxurious sleeper train. The E&O Express is the younger Southeast Asian sibling of the Venice Simplon-Orient Express, itself descended from the legendary Orient Express of 1883. Refashioned and regauged from New Zealand's Silver Star stock, the E&O Express first pulled out of Tanjong Pagar Railway Station in Singapore in 1993, plying a route to Bangkok, Thailand. After a brief hiatus thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, the emerald-and-cream beauty resumed operations in late 2024 with refurbished cabins and refreshed excursions. It now traces two languorous routes through central Malaysia: one forks at Gemas with endpoints in Merapoh and Butterworth, and the other hugs the coast en route to Perlis. We'd seen the pictures on social media: sumptuous interiors dripping with vintage glamour. They catapulted the E&O Express to the top of our bucket list – reserved, we thought, for our retirement years or a miraculous windfall. So, when the chance arose to ride the first route, Wild Malaysia, we packed our flashiest outfits and hopped aboard. First impressions: rolling out the red carpet The E&O Express experience begins right at our doorstep. A luxury car collects us from home, and we pick over the selection of local drinks and snacks to last us the 20-minute ride to Woodlands Checkpoint. There, smartly dressed Belmond porters whisk away our luggage and greet us through every step of customs and immigration (which, by the way, takes place in an area specially cordoned off for E&O Express passengers). It's an early taste of the immaculate service we receive throughout the rest of the journey. Our first glimpse of the train comes through the hazy glass of the checkpoint holding area. The train's far end tails off into a vanishing point, it being much longer than we expected. After a quick photo of its gleaming green exterior, marked with the golden tiger insignia, we're helped onto carriage H – farthest from the dining cars but conveniently near the bar and observation car, we're told consolingly. The cabins: compact stunners with, yes, ensuite bathrooms We stay in a state cabin, a tier above the Pullman cabin and second only to the presidential suite. It's a jewel box of marine blues and greens inspired by Penang's seaside locale, which pop against glossy, marquetry wood walls. The tables bloom with tropical plants and fruits – birds of paradise, dragonfruit – all washed in natural light pouring in from two generous windows. There are silky soft dressing gowns and slippers so plush that I often forget to switch them out for proper shoes when leaving the cabin. Every time we're off at dinner, our lovely carriage attendant, Navein, squirrels in to draw the cream curtains and convert the seats into two cosy beds, complete with linens embroidered with the E&O Express logo. He leaves surprises behind every day: our favourite is an anthology of poems and short stories commissioned by Belmond, a literary romp through the untold stories of Malaysia. Unlike the Venice Simplon-Orient Express, every cabin on this train comes with an en-suite bathroom. It's snug – even for two fairly petite ladies like us – but admirably designed to fit a toilet, sink, and shower, with thoughtfully placed hooks and storage compartments. It's a good idea to grip the handlebars while showering to avoid potentially gnarly slips. We swipe some of the luxury toiletries at the end of the trip – in fact, we're encouraged to. The dining: fine dining fusion fare by Chef Andre Chiang Part of the E&O Express's charm is its leisurely pace: we spend blissful downtime in our cabin watching Malaysia's landscape sweep by as the train snakes through the snatching fingers of Taman Negara National Park's lush forest, past waving palm plantations, and by numerous towns we've never heard of. But if watching all this life flash by leaves us feeling a little untethered at times, then Chef André Chiang's fine dining fare is a welcome grounding force. Born in Taiwan, raised in Japan, and trained in France, Chef André is the former head of the three-Michelin-star Le Jardin des Sens and founder of the two-star Restaurant André in Singapore. His onboard menu was expectedly refined, comfortingly unpretentious, and so very delicious. Amidst the rattle of linen-covered tables laden with hand-cut crystalware and fine china, familiar Malaysian flavours show up in bold, surprising forms: refreshing kaffir lime consommé stirred with a stick of lemongrass, bouillabaisse jazzed up with laksa spices, and coconut blancmange with Nyonya chendol. Chef André plucks flavours from other Asian cuisines too, lacing a shrimp and clam bisque with miso, and nestling kimchi alongside delicately seared tuna in an unassuming nicoise salad. A good representation of Malaysia's cultural melting pot. Everything else: hyperlocal excursions in the heart of Malaysia We should add that you'll be very, very stuffed from (at least) four meals a day. Good for us then, that we have to trot at least seven carriages down to the two dining cars for meals. Nevertheless, we welcomed the daily excursions – an opportunity to stretch our legs and check out the locality. Belmond has curated something for everyone: the nature nuts, the wellness seekers, the foodies, the artsy fartsy. We flow through yoga poses in front of a towering limestone cliff in Taman Negara National Park before laying in a flat, wide stream for a sound bath experience. Throughout the experience, our guide, Xin Wei from The Habitat Group, chatters merrily about the wildlife of the national park, pointing out whooping monkey calls, pretty nesting birds, and even elephant poop. Others follow a tiger conservationist to walk in the footsteps of the elusive felines, and yet more zip off on e-bikes to explore Merapoh's caves. In Penang, we trade the sweltering city centre for the cool climes at the peak of Penang Hill, cooking Chinese and Indian snacks in the shade of a gorgeous villa. Other guests hop onto Vespas for an art tour of Georgetown or into rickshaws for a self-guided tour of the UNESCO Historic Site. Downtime is spent in our private cabins or bar cars – easily the train's most visually striking. We witness many a fast friendship made over free-flowing champagne and cocktails, picked from a whimsical, tropical-themed menu with storybook-like pop-ups and cutouts. Other entertainment: coffee tasting sessions, mindful mandala-colouring workshops, or wind-in-your-hair moments in the observation car, particularly thrilling while the train whizzes through the thickest parts of the Malaysian jungle. Is it worth it? Here's the deal: a journey on the E&O Express starts at US$4,650 for a 4D3N trip in the Pullman cabin – and only goes up from there. Friends and family in Singapore are bewildered: 'Wait, that much just to go to Penang?' We understand. Those based in Asia don't expect to drop more than a couple of hundred dollars on a trip to Malaysia. But we'd argue that a journey on the E&O Express is more than just "going to Penang". It's aspirational travel at its finest, offering an immersive, high-style homage to the golden age of train travel, an opportunity to live out the fantasy of the Orient Express, and to really slow down and savour the journey (not just the destination). Pepper in some Malaysian charm – in the food, the exclusive excursions, and the distinct warmth of the local crew – and you've got a winner. Whether it's worth cashing out on the fantasy still comes down to your budget and travel style. But as we step off the train in Singapore — like slipping back through the wardrobe from Narnia – it crosses our mind: we'll be back, sometime, somehow.
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- Yahoo
Journey through the rainforest in luxury on Malaysia's last remaining sleeper train
A rainbow appeared briefly over Singapore, though I was the only one to notice it, standing alone on the open caboose of our train as it travelled north over the Strait of Johor, leaving the Lion City behind. It was only a brief sighting. An embankment of dark cloud was forming, and quickly overtook us as we passed into Malaysia, releasing another torrent of rain and lightning that cut the muggy heat and raised a stench from the dirty strait. Some ninety-four years ago, Henri Fauconnier, French writer and rubber baron, described Malaysia as a place where, though the 'sky exults and sheds abundant tears, dark dismal days are unknown.' And it was true this day, as, despite the weather, I had watched passengers boarding the Eastern & Oriental Express (E&O Express), all of them smiling in eager anticipation of our journey into the depths of the Malayan peninsula. First, we were heading through the jungly central highlands to Taman Negara National Park, then along the west coast line to the colonial outposts of Butterworth and Georgetown, on the island of Penang. Finally, in four days and three nights, we would retrace our path back to the swampy glamour of Singapore. The E&O Express had once run all the way from Singapore to Bangkok before being scuppered in 2020. It was revived by Belmond in 2024 for multi-day round trips through Malaysia, and is now the only sleeper train still operating in Malaysia (the Intercontinental Express still runs overnight from the Thai-Malay border north to Bangkok). Related These tracking holidays offer 'total immersion' into the world of Europe's wolves And, as with anything Belmond, the price – $4,650 (€4,110) – is high, strikingly higher than the national KTMB trains operating on the same rails, but it procures a level of comfort and service more luxurious than any Malaysian sultan in history ever had the good luck to experience. The wood-panelled carriages are warm and inviting, the en-suite compartments roomy and snug. My State cabin had a chair and lounger that each converted to a single bed, and the en-suite a marble handbasin and a full-size shower with its own sweet and charming cabin steward. As we shunted away, I was joined on the observation deck by various characters—Australian lawyers and financial investors, American artists, Malaysian construction magnates—enticed by the adjacent bar car (one of two on the train). They were all dressed to the nines, the E&O Express inspiring a certain etiquette among its passengers. 'An atmosphere of relaxed refinement,' so the brochure assured me, 'calls for smart-casual wear with a touch of understated elegance.' Malaysia is a composite nation of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cultures, and the food, both ample and delicious, mixes those varied local cuisines with a touch of Provence. Our first lunch was kimchi niçoise with a crispy udon galette, and a coconut blancmanger with Nyonya chendol for dessert. Each day, entertainment was provided – a magician, a jazz trio, a karaoke night in the bar – and anyone could avail themselves of the onboard spa or mahjong set. Most, however, chose to congregate on the observation deck, letting the wind blow away the heat and carry the scent of sodden roots and woodsmoke. By morning, we had arrived at Merapoh, where great mounds of grey rock jut from the forest; the region is famous for its caves. While some passengers went spelunking, some went on a photography scout, and others went for a riverine spa treatment, I joined a small group heading into Taman Negara National Park for some wildlife spotting. Related This sustainable Galapagos cruise showed me a side of the islands Darwin never saw In the back of a pickup truck, I sat beside local guide Nizam Khairun, a sweetly enthusiastic bird fanatic, who held up his phone and showed me pictures of hornbills, eagles, and a little red and blue number called a Garnet Pitta. 'Birdwatchers come from all over the world to see this,' he said, thrusting his phone in my direction. We were driving under a green canopy, the fronds above us meeting like eyelashes over the road, the verge lined with palms like green fountains. Soon we came across a covey of photographers waiting to catch a glimpse of a great argus. 'Hang on,' Nizam said, as he jumped from the truck, and went clucking into the undergrowth. A minute later, he reappeared, followed on his heels by an argus, a bird that resembles a Dickensian peacock, with its long, dun-colored tail. 'I call that one brother,' Nizam said as the photographers snapped away. 'I've known him since he was hatched.' The brush of Taman Negara is thick, and sightings are difficult. Within the tangle of trees and ferns, there are elephants and cattle-like gaur, tapirs and sun bears, and some of the few remaining Malayan tigers. We weren't so lucky as to see any of those, but there were plenty of faraway gibbon calls, elephant prints pressed into the red mud, and a tree that had been shredded by a sun bear trying to get at a bee's nest within. That afternoon, we shunted out of Merapoh and returned south, past vast palm oil and rubber tree plantations. Sometime in the night, we passed Kuala Lumpur (just as well, as its grand, central railway station is no longer in use), and over breakfast, we watched the outskirts of Butterworth amass into the city itself. Related 'I'm glad we didn't fly': How I Interrailed across Europe with my two kids A chartered ferry was waiting to carry us to the island of Penang, where we spent the morning exploring the colonial quarter of Georgetown. Chauffeur trishaws (three-wheeled peddle-bike taxis) had been chartered, and all were given a map of the town and the freedom to do as they wished. Georgetown has transformed itself from a colonial administrative centre to a cultural and artistic hub of Malaysia. I spent my time making a tour of the local street art, each mural and steel-rod sculpture detailing some scene of the island's past: rickshaw coolies, bootblacks, imperial police, and sultans carried on litters. Malaysia droops like a closed lily-bud off the bouquet of Asia, and in the evening, we slid like a drop of dew down its western coast, bound for Singapore. It felt too soon to be returning; this pass through the country had passed in comfort and good grace, but too quickly. But then again, all great trains arrive too soon. The writer was a guest of Belmond's Eastern and Oriental Express.
Euronews
12-05-2025
- Euronews
Bursa: Silk, history, and the flavours of an Ottoman legacy
Nestled on the slopes of Mount Uludağ, Bursa has been a centre of trade and culture for centuries. Once the Ottoman capital, it played a key role in the Silk Road, a legacy preserved in Koza Han, a historic silk market. The city's silk gains its distinctive shine from Bursa's unique water composition. Just outside the city, the UNESCO-listed village of Cumalıkızık offers a glimpse into early Ottoman life. No visit is complete without tasting İskender Kebab, a dish perfected by generations. As Bursa balances tradition with modernity, its heritage continues to captivate travellers and artisans alike. A rainbow appeared briefly over Singapore, though I was the only one to notice it, standing alone on the open caboose of our train as it travelled north over the Strait of Johor, leaving the Lion City behind. It was only a brief sighting. An embankment of dark cloud was forming, and quickly overtook us as we passed into Malaysia, releasing another torrent of rain and lightning that cut the muggy heat and raised a stench from the dirty strait. Some ninety-four years ago, Henri Fauconnier, French writer and rubber baron, described Malaysia as a place where, though the 'sky exults and sheds abundant tears, dark dismal days are unknown.' And it was true this day, as, despite the weather, I had watched passengers boarding the Eastern & Oriental Express (E&O Express), all of them smiling in eager anticipation of our journey into the depths of the Malayan peninsula. First, we were heading through the jungly central highlands to Taman Negara National Park, then along the west coast line to the colonial outposts of Butterworth and Georgetown, on the island of Penang. Finally, in four days and three nights, we would retrace our path back to the swampy glamour of Singapore. The E&O Express had once run all the way from Singapore to Bangkok before being scuppered in 2020. It was revived by Belmond in 2024 for multi-day round trips through Malaysia, and is now the only sleeper train still operating in Malaysia (the Intercontinental Express still runs overnight from the Thai-Malay border north to Bangkok). And, as with anything Belmond, the price – $4,650 (€4,110) – is high, strikingly higher than the national KTMB trains operating on the same rails, but it procures a level of comfort and service more luxurious than any Malaysian sultan in history ever had the good luck to experience. The wood-panelled carriages are warm and inviting, the en-suite compartments roomy and snug. My State cabin had a chair and lounger that each converted to a single bed, and the en-suite a marble handbasin and a full-size shower with its own sweet and charming cabin steward. As we shunted away, I was joined on the observation deck by various characters—Australian lawyers and financial investors, American artists, Malaysian construction magnates—enticed by the adjacent bar car (one of two on the train). They were all dressed to the nines, the E&O Express inspiring a certain etiquette among its passengers. 'An atmosphere of relaxed refinement,' so the brochure assured me, 'calls for smart-casual wear with a touch of understated elegance.' Malaysia is a composite nation of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cultures, and the food, both ample and delicious, mixes those varied local cuisines with a touch of Provence. Our first lunch was kimchi niçoise with a crispy udon galette, and a coconut blancmanger with Nyonya chendol for dessert. Each day, entertainment was provided – a magician, a jazz trio, a karaoke night in the bar – and anyone could avail themselves of the onboard spa or mahjong set. Most, however, chose to congregate on the observation deck, letting the wind blow away the heat and carry the scent of sodden roots and woodsmoke. By morning, we had arrived at Merapoh, where great mounds of grey rock jut from the forest; the region is famous for its caves. While some passengers went spelunking, some went on a photography scout, and others went for a riverine spa treatment, I joined a small group heading into Taman Negara National Park for some wildlife spotting. In the back of a pickup truck, I sat beside local guide Nizam Khairun, a sweetly enthusiastic bird fanatic, who held up his phone and showed me pictures of hornbills, eagles, and a little red and blue number called a Garnet Pitta. 'Birdwatchers come from all over the world to see this,' he said, thrusting his phone in my direction. We were driving under a green canopy, the fronds above us meeting like eyelashes over the road, the verge lined with palms like green fountains. Soon we came across a covey of photographers waiting to catch a glimpse of a great argus. 'Hang on,' Nizam said, as he jumped from the truck, and went clucking into the undergrowth. A minute later, he reappeared, followed on his heels by an argus, a bird that resembles a Dickensian peacock, with its long, dun-colored tail. 'I call that one brother,' Nizam said as the photographers snapped away. 'I've known him since he was hatched.' The brush of Taman Negara is thick, and sightings are difficult. Within the tangle of trees and ferns, there are elephants and cattle-like gaur, tapirs and sun bears, and some of the few remaining Malayan tigers. We weren't so lucky as to see any of those, but there were plenty of faraway gibbon calls, elephant prints pressed into the red mud, and a tree that had been shredded by a sun bear trying to get at a bee's nest within. That afternoon, we shunted out of Merapoh and returned south, past vast palm oil and rubber tree plantations. Sometime in the night, we passed Kuala Lumpur (just as well, as its grand, central railway station is no longer in use), and over breakfast, we watched the outskirts of Butterworth amass into the city itself. A chartered ferry was waiting to carry us to the island of Penang, where we spent the morning exploring the colonial quarter of Georgetown. Chauffeur trishaws (three-wheeled peddle-bike taxis) had been chartered, and all were given a map of the town and the freedom to do as they wished. Georgetown has transformed itself from a colonial administrative centre to a cultural and artistic hub of Malaysia. I spent my time making a tour of the local street art, each mural and steel-rod sculpture detailing some scene of the island's past: rickshaw coolies, bootblacks, imperial police, and sultans carried on litters. Malaysia droops like a closed lily-bud off the bouquet of Asia, and in the evening, we slid like a drop of dew down its western coast, bound for Singapore. It felt too soon to be returning; this pass through the country had passed in comfort and good grace, but too quickly. But then again, all great trains arrive too soon. The writer was a guest of Belmond's Eastern and Oriental Express.
Euronews
11-05-2025
- Euronews
I travelled through the rainforest on Malaysia's last sleeper train
A rainbow appeared briefly over Singapore, though I was the only one to notice it, standing alone on the open caboose of our train as it travelled north over the Strait of Johor, leaving the Lion City behind. It was only a brief sighting. An embankment of dark cloud was forming, and quickly overtook us as we passed into Malaysia, releasing another torrent of rain and lightning that cut the muggy heat and raised a stench from the dirty strait. Some ninety-four years ago, Henri Fauconnier, French writer and rubber baron, described Malaysia as a place where, though the 'sky exults and sheds abundant tears, dark dismal days are unknown.' And it was true this day, as, despite the weather, I had watched passengers boarding the Eastern & Oriental Express (E&O Express), all of them smiling in eager anticipation of our journey into the depths of the Malayan peninsula. First, we were heading through the jungly central highlands to Taman Negara National Park, then along the west coast line to the colonial outposts of Butterworth and Georgetown, on the island of Penang. Finally, in four days and three nights, we would retrace our path back to the swampy glamour of Singapore. The E&O Express had once run all the way from Singapore to Bangkok before being scuppered in 2020. It was revived by Belmond in 2024 for multi-day round trips through Malaysia, and is now the only sleeper train still operating in Malaysia (the Intercontinental Express still runs overnight from the Thai-Malay border north to Bangkok). And, as with anything Belmond, the price – $4,650 (€4,110) – is high, strikingly higher than the national KTMB trains operating on the same rails, but it procures a level of comfort and service more luxurious than any Malaysian sultan in history ever had the good luck to experience. The wood-panelled carriages are warm and inviting, the en-suite compartments roomy and snug. My State cabin had a chair and lounger that each converted to a single bed, and the en-suite a marble handbasin and a full-size shower with its own sweet and charming cabin steward. As we shunted away, I was joined on the observation deck by various characters—Australian lawyers and financial investors, American artists, Malaysian construction magnates—enticed by the adjacent bar car (one of two on the train). They were all dressed to the nines, the E&O Express inspiring a certain etiquette among its passengers. 'An atmosphere of relaxed refinement,' so the brochure assured me, 'calls for smart-casual wear with a touch of understated elegance.' Malaysia is a composite nation of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cultures, and the food, both ample and delicious, mixes those varied local cuisines with a touch of Provence. Our first lunch was kimchi niçoise with a crispy udon galette, and a coconut blancmanger with Nyonya chendol for dessert. Each day, entertainment was provided – a magician, a jazz trio, a karaoke night in the bar – and anyone could avail themselves of the onboard spa or mahjong set. Most, however, chose to congregate on the observation deck, letting the wind blow away the heat and carry the scent of sodden roots and woodsmoke. By morning, we had arrived at Merapoh, where great mounds of grey rock jut from the forest; the region is famous for its caves. While some passengers went spelunking, some went on a photography scout, and others went for a riverine spa treatment, I joined a small group heading into Taman Negara National Park for some wildlife spotting. In the back of a pickup truck, I sat beside local guide Nizam Khairun, a sweetly enthusiastic bird fanatic, who held up his phone and showed me pictures of hornbills, eagles, and a little red and blue number called a Garnet Pitta. 'Birdwatchers come from all over the world to see this,' he said, thrusting his phone in my direction. We were driving under a green canopy, the fronds above us meeting like eyelashes over the road, the verge lined with palms like green fountains. Soon we came across a covey of photographers waiting to catch a glimpse of a great argus. 'Hang on,' Nizam said, as he jumped from the truck, and went clucking into the undergrowth. A minute later, he reappeared, followed on his heels by an argus, a bird that resembles a Dickensian peacock, with its long, dun-colored tail. 'I call that one brother,' Nizam said as the photographers snapped away. 'I've known him since he was hatched.' The brush of Taman Negara is thick, and sightings are difficult. Within the tangle of trees and ferns, there are elephants and cattle-like gaur, tapirs and sun bears, and some of the few remaining Malayan tigers. We weren't so lucky as to see any of those, but there were plenty of faraway gibbon calls, elephant prints pressed into the red mud, and a tree that had been shredded by a sun bear trying to get at a bee's nest within. That afternoon, we shunted out of Merapoh and returned south, past vast palm oil and rubber tree plantations. Sometime in the night, we passed Kuala Lumpur (just as well, as its grand, central railway station is no longer in use), and over breakfast, we watched the outskirts of Butterworth amass into the city itself. A chartered ferry was waiting to carry us to the island of Penang, where we spent the morning exploring the colonial quarter of Georgetown. Chauffeur trishaws (three-wheeled peddle-bike taxis) had been chartered, and all were given a map of the town and the freedom to do as they wished. Georgetown has transformed itself from a colonial administrative centre to a cultural and artistic hub of Malaysia. I spent my time making a tour of the local street art, each mural and steel-rod sculpture detailing some scene of the island's past: rickshaw coolies, bootblacks, imperial police, and sultans carried on litters. Malaysia droops like a closed lily-bud off the bouquet of Asia, and in the evening, we slid like a drop of dew down its western coast, bound for Singapore. It felt too soon to be returning; this pass through the country had passed in comfort and good grace, but too quickly. But then again, all great trains arrive too soon. The writer was a guest of Belmond's Eastern and Oriental Express. The ever-sensational Eurovision song contest is taking place in Basel this year, with performers primed to dazzle audiences at the St. Jakobshalle arena next week. The Swiss city will host the 69th edition of the competition, taking place between 13 and 17 May, where 37 countries will battle it out to be the best act. Fans of the high-octane contest are now flocking to Basel and, if you are thinking of joining the musical extravaganza, accommodation is still available. But be warned, prices are as eye-watering as many of the performances. Basel is anticipating that as many as 50,000 fans will descend on the city in the coming days as Eurovision excitement reaches fever pitch. According to the song contest organisers, visitors from 80 countries around the globe will be in the audience for the live event. Swiss fans have bought the most tickets as the competition returns to their country for the first time since 1989. Germany has purchased the second-highest number of tickets, with fans from the UK, France and Spain rounding out the top five. Accommodation prices in Basel are reportedly sky-high for the week during which the competition will unfold. Sports news site has analysed over 1,000 accommodation listings in the city on Booking and Airbnb. The company compared the average prices of six-night stays for two people from 12 to 18 May (from a day before to a day after the contest) to the period in the weeks before and after Eurovision (5-11 May and 19-25 May) For the week of the competition, accommodation on Booking costs on average €6,024, which is 139 per cent more than the week before Eurovision and 137 per cent more than the week after. On Airbnb, a six-night stay between 12 and 18 May will set you back an average of €1,804, 130 per cent more than the week before the contest and 164 per cent more than the week after. The most expensive option on Booking during Eurovision is a studio eight kilometres from St. Jakobshalle for a staggering €21,906. Even so, that pales in comparison with the most expensive option on Airbnb: a loft 2.5 kilometres from the arena for €67,369 for the six days. If that's out of your budget, the cheapest option on Booking is a double room in a capsule hotel two kilometres from St. Jakobshalle for €1,178, while Airbnb's cheapest offer is an apartment 30 kilometres from the arena for €252.
