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South Africa’s Blue Train

Posted on 19. Feb, 2010 by BCAA in International

TRAIN TRAVEL

The Blue-Ribbon Rendezvous: a 26-hour journey from Cape Town to Pretoria*

(*a distance of nearly 1,000 miles; passengers can also continue on to Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe)

by Helena Zukowski

For a train lover, a chance to ride South Africa’s legendary Blue Train is the kind of thrill one might experience if one were a chef and Alain Ducasse confessed that one’s soufflé made his look like mere pudding. The Blue Train is simply the ultimate luxury train.

The Blue Train’s pedigree goes back to 1901, when the Zambezi Express provided luxury rail travel between Cape Town and Victoria Falls for those whose fortunes were dug out of the diamond mines in Kimberly. By 1939, the line’s blue-and-gray air-conditioned cars were part of the scenery, and locals popularly referred to them as “those blue trains.”

courtesy Helena Zukowski

The first officially dubbed Blue Train was so named in 1946 and was pulled by a steam engine. It ran until an even grander version replaced it in 1972. In the 1990s, Nelson Mandela’s advisers suggested that beefing up tourist facilities would create jobs and increase tourism revenues; of course, the Blue Train would attract those interested in the best in service and comfort. The recently launched, $9-million third incarnation of the Blue Train introduced state-of-the-art upgrades, including powerful air-conditioning that keeps the train cool, even as outdoor temperatures reach 113 degrees, and expensive incandescent lighting controlled by dimmer switches. Of the two Blue Trains, one carries 84 passengers, the other 76; each has a staff of 27 that includes a chef, kitchen, employees and butlers.

Far more than just a mode of transportation, however, these trains set a romantic mood for enjoying South Africa’s landscape and game parks and offer the ideal ambience for making friends along the way.

When I arrive at the station in Cape Town, the sleek blue snake with gold banks along the sides of its 18 cars is already waiting. My bags are whisked in one direction and I am whisked in another to a comfortable station lounge, where blue-uniformed attendants are handing out champagne and orange juice.

Erik, my butler, is escorting me to my room with the kind of understated grace found in noble families. He stashes my bags; explains the intricacies of the electronically controlled window blinds, the telephone and the television (which can be used to watch in-house movies or documentaries about the areas the train traverses), and shows me where to place my shoes for polishing and my clothes for ironing. And, oh, yes, if I want anything, anything at all, I have only to ring.

courtesy Helena Zukowski

Soon, Erik, my butler, is escorting me to my room with the kind of understated grace found in noble families. He stashes my bags; explains the intricacies of the electronically controlled window blinds, the telephone and the television (which can be used to watch in-house movies or documentaries about the areas the train traverses); points out the individual AC controls and dimmer switches for the lights and shows me where to place my shoes for polishing and my clothes for ironing. And, oh, yes, if I want anything, anything at all, I have only to ring.

I am beginning to feel like a peasant child whose royal birth has just been revealed.

By the time I finish inspecting the intricate. inlaid veneer-paneling, the gold-leaf-and-brass walls sconces and the Gialo Royale Italian marble en suite, with its 24-carat-gold fittings, it’s time for lunch.

I dine on appetizers of asparagus and portabella mushrooms topped with crabmeat, grilled baby kingklip (a South African fish) with spicy tomato concassee, lamb served with baked pumpkin and sautéed potatoes and, for a finale, bananas flambéed in 20-year-old brandy – all of this presented on fine-bone china with cut crystal glasses and silver cutlery. And as the train glides along on its cushioned wheels, there isn’t the tiniest bump to disturb the meal.

During lunch, my companions, a young couple from Cape Town on their way to the Maldives for a honeymoon, keep their eyes peeled for famous passengers. After all, Elton John was on board just a few days ago.

During lunch, my companions, a young couple from Cape Town on their way to the Maldives for a honeymoon, keep their eyes peeled for famous passengers. After all, Elton John was on board just a few days ago. As we linger over coffee, talking about celebrities, politics, royalty, republicanism and scuba diving, the veld (grasslands covered with scattered shrubs and trees) outside sizzles in a golden light that laps all the way to the foot of the blue mountains beyond. We have already passed through an endless stretch of vineyards and still have the stunning arid beauty of the Karoo, with its hills and flat-ridged kopjes, ahead.

At our main stop, Matjiesfontein, the train pulls up beside a former military headquarters that is now a tiny, perfectly restored Victorian village. As we step from the station platform onto a rickety red double-decker bus, someone notes that the train is longer than the town. The absurdity of a bus tour through such a small village leads us to guess it is probably just a clever ploy to get passengers to bond; the jokes fly left and right.

courtesy Helena Zukowski

By the time we are on our second sherry at the village’s Lord Milner Hotel, friendships have solidified. Later, back on the train, over cucumber sandwiches and tea, “the three Rogers” – golfing friends from Ireland, Scotland and England who are all, coincidentally, named Roger, provide expert, running commentary on the passing scenery: “Look, moo cows at 9 o’clock.”

That evening the Rogers join me for a dinner that is even more elaborate than lunch, with the addition of specialties such as Knysna oysters, crayfish, and crocodile and impala cooked in the distinctive Cape style, which borrows from the Far East and the French Huguenots. Throughout, we are served award-winning South African wines, as our waiters confide that to ensure the peak of freshness, the ingredients for the next meal are flown to airstrips near train stations en route.

In the club car after dinner, passengers continue to bond. One man confesses that it is his 98th trip on the Blue Train; a couple from Copenhagen try to get everyone to talk about Russian literature, and the Rogers mercilessly tease the honeymoon couple.

courtesy Helena Zukowski

The trip is rapidly coming to an end. And as I slip drowsily between my embroidered sheets and feather-light down comforter, I say a small prayer of thanks for a brief but perfect journey, for fine old trains and new friends.

Getting there: The blue train operates in two seasons. Rates during high season (January 1 through April 30 and September 1 through December 31) are about $1,145 to $1,575. Rates during low season (May 1 through August 31) are about $740 to $1,100.*

*Prices are based on exchange rates at the time of publication and are subject to change

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Photo: Helena Zukowski

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