Category: Trains

The Big 5 0 African Odyssey

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“One Zambia, One Nation” proclaimed the large sign on the highway leading south from Kenneth Kaunda International Airport. It was leftover from 2024, the year Zambia celebrated 60 years of its sovereignty. I was in Africa for my own milestone, and the Zambian capital was my first stop. With jacaranda-lined streets, and a mild climate, Lusaka was a lot more pleasant than I’d expected. It wasn’t particularly built up or congested either, and I was staying in a nice part of town too – along Church Road, at the Southern Sun Ridgeway – although I had really wanted to stay at The Pamodzi, a neighboring property, formerly run by India’s Taj group. I could always walk over and get a meal there at some point, I thought. The day ahead, in theory at least, was meant to be a relaxing one. But it was already filled with anxiety.

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Four days in Belgica, one Bier at a time

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It took three distinct modes of transport to get there – including a pit stop to find a locker for my bags – but make it there I did. With an hour and change to spare. A long day that started in Lisbon, with the timing of my arrival in Belgium hardly coincidental – being the last operating day that week for the Brussels Tram Museum. Worth it? Absolutely. Up there amongst the best transport museums I’ve had the privilege of visiting, the museum boasts over a hundred trams; each one lovingly preserved, and most of them in working order. It was an outright treat. And getting there was half the fun.

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Timur, Talgos, and a side of Non

On By bratislavIn Food & Drink, Trains, Travel2 Comments

Astana, the start of my 3380 km (2100-mile) adventure through Central Asia, is not a place most people would elect to visit. Largely devoid of history, monuments of note, and even semi-interesting topography, Astana has very little to offer relative to the many storied Silk Route towns and cities spread across the various Stans. It was certainly not my first choice of city to embark on such an endeavor from, but looking back, I’m more than glad I did.

Formerly known as Nur Sultan, and the present day capital of Kazakhstan, Astana is located in the north of the country, within a flat, semi-arid steppe. Astana strikes one as a very modern city at first, with a certain degree of Middle East envy. Architecturally, that translates to everything from the whimsical to the bizarre, with some internationally acclaimed talent thrown into the mix. But while Astana’s mostly futuristic aesthetic may not appeal to everyone, it is the sheer thought put into the layout and planning of the city that is hard to ignore. The parks, the landscaping, the riverfront, the generously sized boulevards, the integration of walking and biking into the streetscape – the Kazakhs have spared no effort in making Astana an incredibly pleasant city to wander through. They started with a blank canvas, sure, but like too many cities I know, didn’t squander that opportunity. And they did so for a city that has one of the most short-lived summers on the planet. I was mighty impressed.

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The Zephyr to California

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The plan had always been to start in Chicago. Not one but two itineraries were drawn up. None materialized. Time intervened. Then Denver beckoned – I had never been. Others who had journeyed previously between that pair of cities convinced me there was nothing to see but the Prairies. Apologies, Midwest! Welcoming, unfussy and visually exciting, the Mile High City took no time to impress me. Amongst its lengthy list of attractions – Denver Union Station. Perhaps one of the most desirable venues from which to catch a train. A stunning mash up of historic and contemporary. A model for urban renewal and transit-oriented development. And one that’s brought the oomph back to a much-maligned mode of transport in this country. A fitting place then, from which to start our journey.

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Taipei, Trains, and Towering Trees

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Finding my way out of Taipei Main took a lot longer than expected. Not because there was any shortage of signs, but because I was constantly distracted by the number and sheer variety of eateries crammed into that station. And when you’re as hungry as I was, being spoiled for choice is not necessarily a good thing. Not to mention the massive FoMO that comes with it. Instead, I soldiered on to my hotel, walking past a corner Portuguese egg tart stand, and meters away, a family-run business hawking irresistible pepper buns. No matter what I’d end up eating that night, I knew I was in for a treat. Taiwan had already found a way to my heart.

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The Ocean to Halifax

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Thanksgiving Day ’24 and we’re off to a gloomy, wet start; the rain gradually turning to snow as we approach Albany-Rensselaer. Our leisurely halt there includes the customary locomotive swap, and by the time we pull away, there’s a full-blown snowstorm in the making – the season’s first, apparently. The mighty Hudson is crossed, and we get up to line speed eventually, but ~30-minutes later, in the middle of nowhere, we grind to a halt. The snow, meanwhile, showing no signs of abating. Back in the summer of ’09, I had attempted to take this very train from New York to Montreal, but my plans were thwarted by “track work north of Albany”, with Amtrak offering a sorry substitute for the onward journey, a bus. After all these years, surely I wasn’t out of luck again? The PA system finally comes alive and our conductor explains the hold up – there’s a lengthy freight train ahead of us, switching over to a siding to let us through. Twenty excruciating minutes after halting, we’re rolling north again. I breathe a sigh of relief.

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The Ordinary Passenger to Mbeya

On By bratislavIn Trains, Travel1 Comment

The “First Class Lounge” at Tazara’s Dar es Salaam terminus has certainly seen better days. Not every seat that’s empty is actually useable. The ceiling fans haven’t worked in a while, I’m guessing. A long queue forms for the only working power outlet. Broken blinds offer a glimpse of the platforms, where there’s no activity to speak of. It’s well past our 1350 departure time and a single announcement, barely audible, is made in Swahili. No one stirs. An hour or so passes, and gradually, porters begin filing onto the platform, with loaded carts in tow. After an unexplained delay of a little over two hours, we’re finally on our way to Mbeya.

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The Night Riviera to Penzance

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In the world of engineering, there are few individuals as distinguished or prolific as Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Perhaps one of the greatest contributors to the Industrial Revolution, Brunel left his imprint on everything from bridges and tunnels, to shipping and railways, his rich legacy of innovation and design long outliving his rather short lifespan. Amongst his many great engineering feats, there are few that match the sheer utility or grandeur of London’s exquisite Paddington station. A cathedral of transportation, Paddington imparts a sense of occasion to the mundane act of departing or arriving.

Over the years, I’ve had the good fortune of patronizing Paddington several times, but tonight’s journey is different, momentous even. On platform 1 stands the Night Riviera, an overnight sleeper train, that in some form or another has been operated continuously by the Great Western Railway or GWR since 1877. It’s one of the last two sleeper services left in the UK, and the only one to have eluded me thus far. Tonight, I depart Paddington in style.

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The Reunification Express and other musings on Vietnam

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Coming in from the relative calm of Chiang Mai, and the overall order and efficiency one had gotten used to in Thailand, I have to admit, my arrival in Ho Chi Minh City was a tad jarring. From the severely congested airport, to the chaos of evening rush hour, to the overwhelming number of two wheelers, it was all a bit much. By the end of my first evening though, I was a pro. Simply putting my hand out, without ever making eye contact, and crossing lane after lane of traffic with the confidence of a local. Everyone on two wheels – which is essentially all the traffic there is – would either slow down just enough or miraculously weave past me. There was an order to the madness after all – I just had to submit to it. And once I’d made it to the lively streetscape of Nguyen Hue Boulevard, with the splendid City Hall building on one end and the riverfront on the other, I was sold on Saigon.

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The Far West Wilderness, and a Spot of Trains

On By bratislavIn Trains, Travel4 Comments

In the moments leading up to our boarding call, there’s much debate between SK, JB and me on whether Alaska Seaplanes flight 507 to Skagway is in fact a seaplane. It turns out not to be. This, despite Juneau International having a seaplane port parallel to its main runway. Regardless, the short 25-minute flight along Alaska’s Inside Passage is spectacular, and not one of us is lamenting the lack of pontoons on our craft.

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