THE WORLD’S GREATEST TRAIN TRIP

Welcome aboard, madam.

Fairfax Media recently published my article on our fabulous trip on the train rated the world’s most luxurious. So now here on the blog is the full story on our envy-breeding adventure…

MAHARAJAS IN TRAINING

Welcome aboard, madam.

We’re doing this trip in considerable style on the Maharajas Express Heritage of India tour.

To be honest, I didn’t know such luxury trains existed. I assumed that the best available would be First Class, which in India may not mean much other than getting a seat to yourself, with your private cockroach swatter dangling above you.

This train is more like we imagine the Orient Express to have been, in the mythical good old days when extremely rich people could get murdered on it.

CYCLING LAKE CONSTANCE, DAY 5 – a wet finale in Konstanz

On a day like this, all colour is welcome.

Sometimes it’s better not to know what’s ahead until it’s behind you. On a cycling tour we check the weather forecast several times a day of course. The past two days have been perfect, but today: “Konstanz – rain, max 10 deg, headwind strength 3.” Not ideal cycling weather.

Thanks to my correspondent Ken for reminding me of an excellent story about Lake Constance that is vaguely relevant here. It’s worth a clumsy segue to tell it…

OFF THE HUME #3 – bordering on the ridiculous

Where are the passengers these days?

This is a road trip, so we didn’t need to visit the train station at Albury, on the Victoria/New South Wales border. We just happened to find a motel right across from the entrance, and there are a couple of good stories attached to it.

THALYS – in praise of the fast train to Paris

Centraal Station Amsterdam. And 3 hours 19 minutes later…

Remember air travel when there was no check-in queue, no removing your shoes and belt, no body scan, no fumbling with your iPad and laptop, seats had ample leg-room and wine with your meal was included in the ticket price? Now such luxury is available only on the railways.

ANTWERP, BELGIUM – a bit off-hand

The hand thrower, Antwerp.

Belgians haven’t always been nice to visitors in the past and it seems the tradition continues.

Antwerpen takes its name from the Flemish ‘hand werpen’ – or ‘hand throwing’. The story goes that the gates were guarded by a giant who demanded a toll of travellers. If they couldn’t pay, he cut off their hands and threw them away.