Latest news with #GrahamGreene
Euronews
13 hours ago
- Euronews
Seven days, five countries: My scenic Paris to Istanbul train ride
'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.
The Guardian
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Brighton Rock by Graham Greene audiobook review – Sam West captures the menace of this modern classic
We are not short of audio versions of Brighton Rock, Graham Greene's classic thriller from 1938 set in the eponymous seaside town. Past narrators have included Jacob Fortune‑Lloyd, Richard Brown and Tom O'Bedlam, and that's before you get to the various radio dramatisations. But few can match this narration from the Howards End actor Samuel West, first recorded in 2011, which captures the menace and seediness that runs through Greene's novel. It tells of 17-year-old Pinkie Brown, a razor-wielding hoodlum who is trying to cover up the murder of a journalist, Charles 'Fred' Hale, killed by his gang in revenge for a story he wrote on Pinkie's now deceased boss, Kite. Pinkie sets about wooing Rose, a naive young waitress who unwittingly saw something that could implicate him in the murder. His plan is to marry her to prevent her testifying against him. But he doesn't bargain for the doggedness of Ida Arnold, a middle-aged lounge singer who smells of 'soap and wine' and who happened to meet Hale on the day he was killed. On learning of his death, Ida refuses to believe the reports that he died of natural causes. She resolves not only to bring his killer to justice but to protect Rose from a terrible fate. Brighton Rock is one of several Greene audiobooks being rereleased this year by Penguin; others include The Quiet American (narrated by Simon Cadell), Travels With My Aunt (Tim Pigott-Smith), The Power and the Glory (Andrew Sachs) and The Heart of the Matter (Michael Kitchen). Available via Penguin Audio, 9hr 10min Normally Weird and Weirdly NormalRobin Ince, Macmillan, 9hr 7minInspired by his ADHD diagnosis, the co-presenter of Radio 4's science comedy The Infinite Monkey Cage investigates neurodiversity and asks: what does it mean to be normal? Read by the author. It's Probably NothingNaga Munchetty, HarperCollins, 11hr 33minMunchetty narrates her memoir-cum-polemic about her struggles with adenomyosis and the enduring problem of medical misogyny.
Hindustan Times
24-05-2025
- Hindustan Times
While hearing extramarital affair case, Delhi Court quotes 'The End of the Affair'
A Delhi Court quoted by writer Graham Greene's novel 'The End of the Affair' while upholding a woman and her lover's right to privacy. The court made the remark while rejecting a request by a Major in the Indian Army who alleged that his wife was having an extramarital affair with another Army officer, also a Major and sought CCTV footage of a hotel where both of them were allegedly together, While upholding the right to privacy of the Army officer's wife and his alleged lover, the court quoted the novel during the hearing and said that the burden of fidelity rests with the one who made the promise. 'It is not the lover who has betrayed the marriage, but the one who made the vow and broke it. The outsider was never bound by it,' it said. Also read: Court denies Army Major's request for hotel CCTV footage to prove wife's affair Civil Judge Vaibhav Pratap Singh of Patiala House Court observed, 'The right to privacy and to be left alone in a hotel would extend to the common areas as against a third party who was not present there and has no other legally justifiable entitlement to seek the data of the guest. Same would hold good for the booking details.' The court also said the idea that a woman has no responsibility while having an extramarital affair and a man could steal another man's wife is 'dated' and takes away the woman's agency. 'The dated idea of a man stealing away the wife of another man, without ascribing any role or responsibility to the woman, is to be rejected. It takes agency away from women and dehumanises them,' said the court. 'Modern day Bharat has no place for gender- condescension and patriarchal notions,' the court added. The court also said that hotels usually owe their guests a duty of confidentiality and are required to protect the privacy of their records, including booking details and CCTV footage. It raised the fact that the army officer's wife and her alleged lover were not made parties to the lawsuit and thus the hotel releasing information about them would be 'highly questionable'. '…it is highly questionable whether the hotel can be compelled to release this information without joining these individuals as necessary or at least proper parties to the suit,' the court said.
South China Morning Post
19-05-2025
- South China Morning Post
In the footsteps of Saigon's Quiet American, 70 years on
Northeast of central Saigon lies the Dakow canal. It was here, in its dirty waters, that the body of an American man was found drowned in the mud – stabbed in the chest, it would later be determined, by 'a rusty bayonet'. Thus begins Graham Greene 's The Quiet American, published 70 years ago this year. Set during the first Indochina war (1946-1954), the novel tells of a love triangle between a jaded British foreign correspondent and self-professed désengagé, Thomas Fowler; Vietnamese beauty Phuong; and a young American, Alden Pyle, whose quietness belies a dangerous idealism. Often noted for its foresight into American involvement in the Vietnam war, the novel's real triumph lies in how vividly it brings its setting to life. Today, it makes for an interesting companion while exploring Saigon – now officially known as Ho Chi Minh City – where traces of remote Greeneland can still be found. The Cao Dai Temple in Ho Chi Minh City. Photo: Oliver Raw The far bank of the canal, described in the novel as Vietminh territory by night, is now part of the urban core, with restaurants lining the water and apartment buildings shooting upwards beyond. During my visit, I find no bodies floating under the bridge, just elderly residents doing their morning exercises and a man fishing in the muddy waters. A woman empties a plastic bag filled with juvenile catfish into the canal. 'For peace,' she tells me, before hopping on her scooter and speeding away like someone fleeing the scene of a crime. Those familiar with the novel will know I have begun, like Greene, where the story comes full circle. To follow events properly, however, we must visit the Rue Catinat, or Dong Khoi ('mass uprising') Street as it is known today, where much of the action of the novel takes place. The Hotel Continental is the city's oldest hostelry and during the war was a watering hole for journalists. Greene doesn't offer much detail about its appearance but its Grecian-influenced design remains largely unchanged from early photographs, although the terrace, which once would have resounded to the clatter of dice games (a favourite pastime of French colonials) is now fully enclosed.
Indian Express
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
A new story by Graham Greene, an invitation to reassess a familiar author
The wind keens outside the window, the rain a whiplash on the shutters. Inside a rented apartment on the French Riviera, a solitary traveller reads to pass the interminable hours of the storm. The posthumous discovery of Graham Greene's ghost story 'Reading at Night', possibly written in 1962 and only just published in Strand Magazine, a Michigan-based quarterly, offers more than just a literary footnote. It reveals the elasticity of a writer best known for his Catholic guilt-laced thrillers and political novels. Discovered in the archives of the University of Texas at Austin, the story's haunted atmosphere, the tension between memory and perception, its spectral uncertainty, reveal a writer attuned to the darkness that lingers just beyond the reach of reason. One of the finest writers of the 20th century, Greene is not alone in genre detours. The same edition of the magazine also carries a short story by Ian Fleming about a faded journalist grappling with the summons from a media baron, a departure from his flamboyant James Bond series. From Henry James's eerie Turn of the Screw (1898) to the genre-bending fiction of Margaret Atwood and Kazuo Ishiguro, writers have often strayed from familiar ground to pursue artistic reinvention. These forays reflect not inconsistency, but range — and a willingness to engage with a broader emotional spectrum of storytelling. There is also something magnetic about 'lost' stories. When forgotten works surface, they invite readers to reassess familiar authors through unfamiliar lenses. They serve as time capsules, preserving the anxieties, experiments, or ambitions that didn't fit neatly into a writer's canon. For a new generation, these offer a chance to encounter literary titans not through weighty reputations but through more intimate pieces. 'Reading at Night' may be a ghost story, but its real power lies in re-animating Greene, reminding readers that even great storytellers can live outside their legacies, experimenting on the margins.
