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I would say that I've never slept on a train, but that wouldn't be true - I do it most mornings. However, what I have never done is slept on a train which is specifically designed to be slept on, with cabins and beds and the like. Britain is sufficiently titchy that unless you're planning to go from Penzance to Fort William the long way you don't really need that sort of thing. Americans and Australians going from one side of their country to another will need a few days and a comfy mattress but hopping from Hull to Liverpool just isn't the same.
All the same I decided that as it's something I haven't done before I ought to give it a whirl, and so last Friday I found myself standing on a chilly platform at Euston waiting for the overnight sleeper train to Edinburgh. A holdover from a more civilised age of rail travel, the sleeper takes a leisurely route up the country and takes it's time about it - over seven hours for a trip with usually takes less than five. Moreover, at nigh-on two hundred quid per ticket (if you want a bed, anyway) it's expensive enough to be utterly uncompetitive with faster means of transport and so the clientele are interestingly self-selecting. People rich enough to afford it over flying or the normal train whilst being civilised enough not be in much of a rush. Naturally, I decided I'd fit right in.
Getting on the train I discovered, to my considerable delight, that the decor in the lounge car (it has a lounge car. I've not seen one of those in a while) was straight out of the 1987 Ideal Home catalogue with beige carpets on the walls, stainless steel chairs and sofas made of something that was almost leather, but not. I knew, right then, that I was going to enjoy myself.
I made my way to my cabin, got my luggage stowed and read the 'welcome aboard' leaflet. Your host, it read (they don't have a conductor or a ticket inspector on the sleeper. They have hosts, which is lovely) Welcomes you aboard the Caledonian Sleeper service and invites you to join us in our on-board Bistro. On-board Bistro? I thought. How can anyone fail to love a train with an on-board Bistro?
Closing my cabin door behind me I sauntered down to the Bistro to check out the menu and bar. As it's a service to Scotland I naturally assumed that the drinks would be limited to things like Cabernet McEwans and Pinot Buckfast, but no. Amongst a wide number of other firsts in my life, the Caledonian Sleeper is the first rail service, first-class or otherwise, I have ever used where the available drinks include Chateau Lafite. Moreover, the barman was an amiable Scot who reminded me of Mrs. Doyle out of Father Ted but with booze.
"Good evening sir. What'll you be drinking? Stella? McEwans? Guiness? Whisky?"
"Um...what soft drinks do you have?"
"Irn Bru, Coke, and red and white wine."
and
"Will you have another drink there, sir?"
"No, I've spent up. I'll go to bed."
"You've no money left?"
"Nope, I'm out."
"Well, just have this wee one one the house, then."
and
"Do you have any water?"
"We've got Strathclyde water?"
"What's that?"
"Well, in England ye call it Gin."
It was clear that most of the passengers were going to stay up drinking all the way from London to Edinburgh and get off the train at 8am utterly plastered, but I'm too much of a lightweight for that sort of thing these days and I went to bed at about 1am where I realised why staying up would have been the better idea. You see the cabins are a masterpeice of ergonomic design with everything you might happen to need cleverly slotted together in an area about the size of a bathtub, but as a result the beds are perpendicular to the direction of travel - and this means that every time the train takes a bend you slide up and down your bed and end up crumpled against the bulkhead like someone dropped a puppet. I might as well have sat up drinking for all the sleep I got, but I suppose that's the point if you're going to Scotland.
All the same I decided that as it's something I haven't done before I ought to give it a whirl, and so last Friday I found myself standing on a chilly platform at Euston waiting for the overnight sleeper train to Edinburgh. A holdover from a more civilised age of rail travel, the sleeper takes a leisurely route up the country and takes it's time about it - over seven hours for a trip with usually takes less than five. Moreover, at nigh-on two hundred quid per ticket (if you want a bed, anyway) it's expensive enough to be utterly uncompetitive with faster means of transport and so the clientele are interestingly self-selecting. People rich enough to afford it over flying or the normal train whilst being civilised enough not be in much of a rush. Naturally, I decided I'd fit right in.
Getting on the train I discovered, to my considerable delight, that the decor in the lounge car (it has a lounge car. I've not seen one of those in a while) was straight out of the 1987 Ideal Home catalogue with beige carpets on the walls, stainless steel chairs and sofas made of something that was almost leather, but not. I knew, right then, that I was going to enjoy myself.
I made my way to my cabin, got my luggage stowed and read the 'welcome aboard' leaflet. Your host, it read (they don't have a conductor or a ticket inspector on the sleeper. They have hosts, which is lovely) Welcomes you aboard the Caledonian Sleeper service and invites you to join us in our on-board Bistro. On-board Bistro? I thought. How can anyone fail to love a train with an on-board Bistro?
Closing my cabin door behind me I sauntered down to the Bistro to check out the menu and bar. As it's a service to Scotland I naturally assumed that the drinks would be limited to things like Cabernet McEwans and Pinot Buckfast, but no. Amongst a wide number of other firsts in my life, the Caledonian Sleeper is the first rail service, first-class or otherwise, I have ever used where the available drinks include Chateau Lafite. Moreover, the barman was an amiable Scot who reminded me of Mrs. Doyle out of Father Ted but with booze.
"Good evening sir. What'll you be drinking? Stella? McEwans? Guiness? Whisky?"
"Um...what soft drinks do you have?"
"Irn Bru, Coke, and red and white wine."
and
"Will you have another drink there, sir?"
"No, I've spent up. I'll go to bed."
"You've no money left?"
"Nope, I'm out."
"Well, just have this wee one one the house, then."
and
"Do you have any water?"
"We've got Strathclyde water?"
"What's that?"
"Well, in England ye call it Gin."
It was clear that most of the passengers were going to stay up drinking all the way from London to Edinburgh and get off the train at 8am utterly plastered, but I'm too much of a lightweight for that sort of thing these days and I went to bed at about 1am where I realised why staying up would have been the better idea. You see the cabins are a masterpeice of ergonomic design with everything you might happen to need cleverly slotted together in an area about the size of a bathtub, but as a result the beds are perpendicular to the direction of travel - and this means that every time the train takes a bend you slide up and down your bed and end up crumpled against the bulkhead like someone dropped a puppet. I might as well have sat up drinking for all the sleep I got, but I suppose that's the point if you're going to Scotland.
