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Irish Post
02-08-2025
- Irish Post
Golden pass, silver service in Switzerland
IMAGINE the scene: you're sipping fine white wine and eating delicate cheeses and charcuterie from a black slate board. You relax in a plush leather recliner and gaze through huge windows at a kaleidoscope of velvety green meadows, and a backdrop of knife-sharp snowy mountains. That's the heavenly reality of a trip in the Prestige class section of Switzerland's Golden Pass Express, a relatively new addition to the country's five premium panorama trains that take travellers on some of the world's finest landscape tours. Switzerland's sparkling new Golden Pass Express (Pic: Swiss Travel Systems AG) With hardly a whisper or a shake, the high-tech Express was gently conveying myself and my partner, photographer Sue Mountjoy, on a three-hours-and-15-minute wonderland journey northward from the belle époque stateliness of Montreux, on the banks of Lake Geneva, to Interlaken, the adventure capital in the heart of the country's mountain-and-lake-dotted Bernese Oberland. After a SWISS flight from Manchester to Zurich, our six-night train tour took us on a rollercoaster of experiences, from visiting the homes of two icons of British comedy and rock music to a stint of adrenaline-spiking sledging and a relaxed lake journey filled with melted cheese and more of that white wine on a local version of a Venetian gondola voyage (without a singing Italian boatman in sight). To accompany us, we took a book, Slow Train to Switzerland by British travel writer Diccon Bewes. This recounted how the first guided group tour of the country, by British travel pioneer Thomas Cook, in 1863, began the era of affordable tourism for the masses and transformed Switzerland into the wealthy powerhouse of today. The three-week journey, for seven intrepid middle-class Victorians (around 120 'wimps' dropped out before the end), took them from London to Lucerne on shattering 18-hour days, sometimes bouncing along on the backs of feisty donkeys or mules, other times on tortoise-like rattling trains without toilets and on frightening mountain treks dressed only in totally unsuitable tweed suits and ties or the crinolines, corsets, huge dresses and bonnets of the day. Yet those package holiday pioneers made it, despite this beautiful ice-carved landscape being dirt poor in those days and a loose confederation of small independent states, often fighting with each other over religion, borders, a snowstorm of currencies (the Swiss franc now reigns everywhere) and language (the country has settled on four nowadays, including tricky Swiss versions of French and German, although fluent English is spoken widely). And that early trickle of affordable package tourism propelled Switzerland skyward, like a champion ski jumper, into today's glistening Alpine jewel of ultra-efficient trains (just 650km in the 1860s but over 5,000km now), luxurious and inventive hotels and all the chocolate and fine cheese you could wish for. Three giants. Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau (Pic: Jungfrau Region Tourismus AG) So, what does a similar grand train journey feel like now? Lakeside Montreux OUR first stop, Montreux, has a mild climate and is the epitome of style meeting modernity with its classy belle époque hotels alongside its popular Lake Geneva walkway. It's no surprise that rock band Queen's frontman, Freddie Mercury, lived there for its civilised charm and told the world: 'If you want peace of mind, come to Montreux.' We joined a few excitable fans at Freddie's lakeside bronze statue and others ogling the old costumes, and scribbled hit song lyrics, at the small Queen tribute museum, housed in the nearby casino, which was Queen's recording studio before burning down during a wild 1971 Frank Zappa concert. Using the shockingly punctual local trains and buses throughout, we ventured a few miles north to Vevey for Chaplin's World, the luxurious adopted home and absorbing museum that brought to life the 75-year career of Charlie, the English comic actor, filmmaker and composer. Heading south along the lake brought us to another local gem, the Château de Chillon, one of the most beautiful medieval castles in Europe, standing on a rock in the shimmering lake, surrounded by mountains and with a dark prison history. No surprise it is the country's most visited historic attraction. All-action Interlaken OUR journey was more about those glistening peaks than dungeons, so, next day, after that dreamlike Golden Pass train ride upwards to Interlaken, we were soon heading out of the resort for a couple of immersive days of charm and fun. From a boat cruise on crystal-clear Lake Thun (with a glorious 'Irish Stew' and mash onboard) to a romantic evening of a fondue-style meal of 'Raclette' melted cheese and boiled spuds on a dinghy ride on Lake Brienz (with soothing jazz music and our own bearded rower from Cologne), the day floated by, calmly and idyllically. Next morning was all-action with our widely-travelled mountain guide, Doris, taking us on connecting trains, including the famed Eiger Express, up to Jungfrau (the 3,454-metre 'Maiden'), the heart of Central Switzerland's Bernese mountain range that also includes the adjoining Mönch (the 'Monk') which, legend has it, protected the 'Maiden' from the nearby Eiger (the 'Ogre'). In the thin and icy air, we gazed down at the deep blue ice crevasses in the giant Aletsch Glacier, which has been shrinking rapidly due to global warming, before enjoying a pasta lunch at the high-flying Restaurant Crystal, sampling 12-year-old Swiss Mountain single malt whisky, matured in the adjoining ice caves. After that welcome drop of 'Dutch Courage,' I headed out with snow sports expert Doris for a Kleine Scheidegg sledge ride down the mountain (Sue smashed her right knee in Bali so opted out, very wisely) and ended up in one piece at the railway station below. It was labelled 'Easy' but seemed more like Formula One to me! That night at the historic and laid-back Hotel Interlaken – where the Victorian group also stayed in 1863 – we enjoyed a delightful Swiss steak dinner followed by drinks on our rear room balcony, overlooking the soaring 12th-century 'reformed church.' Perfect. Lovely Lucerne's lake and mountains AS THE 'Heart of Switzerland' and one of the world's prettiest cities, Lucerne was a great finale to our train tour and we started with the high point, the half-hour cable car trip to the summit of Mt Pilatus (2,128 metres) for one of the most spectacular views in the country. I had told Sue how the last time I was there, that view took in deep blue Lake Lucerne and the snow-topped surrounding mountains. This time thick fog and some pesky rain produced a complete white-out – a problem dispersed slightly by our picnic basket and champagne, which we downed in the largely empty summit café whilst the cleaners swept up around us (well, nothing's perfect!). Our room at the Hotel Seeburg, however, was perfect with a huge window and balcony overlooking the lake. So, out went our plan for a dine-around at the local restaurants – and instead came a dine-in on that staggering balcony (wrapped in blankets and woolly hats of course!). Lucerne's main sights are so walkable, from the medieval city centre to the historic Chapel Bridge, Lion Monument and the wide selection of art and history museums. Favourite of these was the huge and interactive Transport Museum, where we met Andreas, a Swiss train driver for four decades, who showed us round some antique trains from the 1950s and earlier. They were hardly up to modern comfort levels but not the ancient steam-driven bone-shakers that would have been used by those pioneer Victorian travellers on their arduous trek to explore Switzerland's natural beauty. So, as we settled back in our padded seats in the upstairs panoramic cabin of the on-time 14:09 train to Zurich Airport, we wondered at how those hardy bygone travellers would have felt about the changes since those days when it was them – not the train – that took the strain! FURTHER INFO Switzerland Tourism
Irish Post
06-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Post
Birmingham's Balti, blinders and Irish backbone
MY eyes started to bulge, beads of sweat began to drip from my brow — I realised that my nascent journey through Birmingham's cultural chicane was about to hit the wall when I started to taste a bowl of fiery Hot and Sour Soup ( Suan La Tang ) at a lively Chinatown restaurant. Sichuan peppercorns seemed to be gouging dents in my tongue deeper than West Midlands potholes. And the accompanying fried rice, with its semi-volcanic red chilli paste, was failing to douse the flames. Luckily, I was saved soon after when a very welcome Guinness helped to soothe the pain at the Queen's Arms, a friendly and traditional Art Nouveau pub in Birmingham's Jewellery Quarter. Another pint followed and, quite soon, normal service was (almost) restored, Well, at least I was able to talk again. Such risks are at the heart of any trip into a metropolis which is a melting pot (literally) of so many of the world's cultures and cuisines, from Irish and Caribbean to Chinese and an abundance of South Asian. The previous day, I had voyaged into the heart of the city, along with my partner and photographer Sue Mountjoy, on a hired narrowboat in which we had tucked into our own version of the Birmingham Balti, cooked previously and frozen at home. James with the Wren tied up in the heart of Birmingham Our onboard meal was based on a recipe from Shababs, one of the city's original Balti houses that refined the legendary Pakistani curry, named after its wok-shaped cooking pan, the Balti, meaning bucket in Hindi and created locally in the 1970s. It was a delightful mix of spices, but our cooking skills hardly matched those of the local aficionados who, despite so much competition from burgers, desserts, pizzas and gastro pubs, can still be found across a city which served 20,000 Balti meals a week in the boom decades between 1990 and 2010. Of course, our four-day journey along the Worcester and Birmingham Canal was as much a relaxing wander through idyllic spring countryside as an exploration of the history of the waterway itself and the countless Irish labourers who sweated, bled and died carving its 22-mile route from Alvechurch Marina to Birmingham's historic Gas Street Basin. During the golden age of canals – a relatively short period, from 1760 to 1800 – it is not known how many Irishmen flocked to regions like the West Midlands, the epicentre of the network with 160 miles of canals (more waterways than Venice, it's claimed), most of which still survive, having come through the eras of the railways, roads and now enjoying a halcyon period of leisure use. Many of these men hid their identities and remain unrecorded by history, suspicious of often aggressive authorities and locals who accused them of taking their jobs by undercutting their already meagre wages. James tries out his onboard Balti curry Yet they came in their thousands, many to handle the harvests of the great English and Scottish estates, before switching to the canals for the better pay for the punishing work of digging 20 tons of earth a day, living amid the disease and violence of nearby shanty towns, where beer and brawling were the key distractions. It was hard not to think of their sacrifices when we faced our first and only real challenge, the seemingly endless and gloomy depths of the Wast Hill Tunnel, which is over a mile and a half long and took us over 35 minutes to pass through with just our boat headlight as our guide. It took the navvies three brutally hard and very dangerous years to dig by hand and build the brickwork (from 1794-97). I wondered how many had died there and had been the legendary 'heavy diggers' of Connemara or the 'tunnel tigers' from Donegal – both had a reputation as hard workers and, even today, have renowned skills in construction, particularly subterranean work. Wast Hill proved passable safely with steel-eyed concentration and, once through, gave me a light-headed sense of achievement when that light emerged and we savoured the warmth and birdsong at the end of its shiveringly dank depths. Even so, our cruise – with not a single ancient lock to negotiate - was ideal for a beginner and for boaters who prefer a gentle cruise through a tapestry of rolling Worcestershire countryside dotted with ancient waterside cottages and elegant grey herons who stared at us intently from the towpaths, hopeful that our propellor would expose a doomed fish or two for lunch. The Wren moored in central Birmingham Our first mooring was at Bournville, the UK's 'Chocolate Town' and home to the all-embracing Cadbury business started in 1824 by Quaker John just four miles away in Birmingham's Bull Street - now American-owned and one of the world's biggest confectionery brands. We had a fascinating wander round the elegant and green Arts and Crafts model village, which the Cadbury dynasty built to provide workers with better living conditions than the cramped Victorian city. But it was in among the giggling children at the Cadbury World exhibition centre (over 500,000 visitors each year) that we saw how clever marketing and continuous change made us both obsessed as children with Dairy Milk! Next day, a small boy Ollie (3) and his great grandmother stopped to chat and look over our 49-foot steel monster, between train spotting on the adjoining Cross-City rail line into Birmingham. 'How fast does it go?' he asked. 'Not very, I'm afraid,' I replied honestly, to his clear disappointment. Yet, as we cast off with the help of our neighbouring boat owner and with advice about the big city's attractions from a young man living in his boat opposite, we appreciated that life at 4-miles-an-hour is a wellbeing antidote to today's busy world. Even as busy Birmingham crept up on us, through the fields, suburban warehouses, and graffiti-emblazoned walls of Selly Oak, Edgbaston and eventually through heart of the city's waterways, the 230-year-old canal nerve centre, Gas Street Basin, and our final mooring berth, Brindley Place, once grimy and choked with industry but now home to countless lively bars, restaurants and such attractions as the National Sea Life Centre, Legoland and the Symphony Hall. For two nights, despite being surrounded by such full-on nightlife, our mooring proved oddly peaceful, with several friendly passing dog walkers, pram-pushers and cuddling couples stopping to chat whenever we stepped out. And by foot and buses, we immersed ourselves in the many cultures of a city which has been home to the Irish for over two centuries, with over 15,000 Irish immigrations arriving by the mid 19th century, attracted by work on the canals, railways and construction industry. The Wren sails through the lengthy Wast Hill Tunnel Our trips took us to some of the city's iconic centres, including Digbeth, the spiritual home of the Irish, and the fascinating Back-to-Backs Museum, where the National Trust spent £3 million preserving three 19th century houses that show the disease, landlord cruelty and squalor those families endured. Interestingly, our guide informed us that due to the high water table locally, the poorest families had not been forced to live in the dark and windowless house cellars as so many arriving Irish had had to endure in 19th century Liverpool. After our return to Alvechurch Marina, we handed back the 'Wren' and drove to Dudley to spend the day at the remarkable Black Country Living Museum, whose grim canal yard featured in the earliest episodes of television's long-running Birmingham drama, Peaky Blinders. The dramatized Blinders on TV are a violent group of organised criminals with Irish roots (led by Tommy Shelby played by Cillian Murphy) but the truth of the fearsome late 19th and early 20th century Birmingham 'slogging' gangs is more complex. Some, grew out of the anti-Irish Catholic violence stirred up by roving preachers who encouraged widespread looting and destruction of the impoverished Irish homes around Park Street in the 1860s. For protection, many youngsters signed up to what became an early youth cult of the day. Today, the Blinders are long gone. And, despite Birmingham's recent headlines over bin strikes and council finance chaos, we enjoyed a city with great pubs and live trad music and learned how their modern-day Irish descendants are now the poets, writers, teachers, builders and musicians that have helped construct the kaleidoscopic culture of a city that can certainly float your Balti boat. FACTFILE For canal trip details visit or call 0344 984 0322 ABC Boat Hire or call 0330 333 0590 Hire prices for the 'Wren,' for example, start at £699 for a short break (three or four nights), £999 for a week. Boats range from 32ft to 70ft and can accommodate from two up to 12 people. For more information about the canal network, visit See More: Balti, Birmingham, Irish, Travel
