For purists, the VSOE is not the “original” Orient Express which was a route, not a specific set of carriages. The first “Express d’Orient” left Paris enroute to Vienna on June 5, 1883; the first non-stop train to Istanbul left Paris on June 1, 1889. In 1919, after the First World War the opening of the Simplon Tunnel allowed the introduction of a more southerly train via Milan, Venice and Trieste known as the Simplon Orient Express. This train ran in addition to continuing services on the old route. The Treaty of Saint-Germain contained a clause requiring Austria to accept this train and it soon became the most important rail route between Paris and Istanbul.

The 1930’s was the golden age of the train. Railway travel was the most common method of covering great distances. The Orient Express acquired its reputation for comfort and luxury, carrying sleeping-cars with permanent service and dinning cars known for the quality of their cuisine. Favorite clients included royalty, diplomats, business people and the bourgeoisie. Agatha Christie’s famous mystery novel was set on the Simplon Orient Express.

However, The Simplon Orient Express was replaced in 1962 by a slower train called the Direct Orient Express, which included one direct sleeping-car from Paris to Istanbul just three times a week. The last Direct Orient Express left Paris on 19 May 1977.

In 1982, American entrepreneur James Sherwood bought two of the original carriages at an auction in Monte Carlo. Over the next few years, Sherwood purchased 35 sleeper, restaurant and bar carriages and restored them to their original glory. Today, the VSOE operates using most of the original luxury 17 carriages including sleeping cars, dining cars, a bar car from Orient Express golden years.

An excellent, accurate, history of the Orient Express, in all of its variations is at Seat 61.

Information to follow up on:
You can read a brief history of each individual VSOE Pullman Car, worth checking as the history is fascinating, and many of the cars have links with famous trains or famous people.

Do you want to take your own Trip of a Lifetime?

Want to just have a taste? The British Pullman trains offer a lunch trip (from £470), afternoon tea (from £340) evening dinner trip (around £635) and other seasonal options. Based on what we experienced, the food and wine are truly excellent and although these trips are an extravagance, they are probably worth it!

There are a few downsides to traveling the VSOE.

First: it’s expensive. At about 5000(pounds) per couple for an overnight journey of roughly 27 hours (leaving London at 9am, arriving Venice at 7pm the next day), this is a journey most of us can’t make without a lot of consideration. This is for a cabin; Suites and Grand Suites start at (heart-stoppingly) 12,000(pounds).

Second: By day two a lot of the glamour has worn off, and you are basically riding a train all day. Yes, the regular food offerings are yummy and distracting, but there are hours of nothing to do but look out the window. Moreover, a lot of the route we took was not through lovely visuals. This was far too common:

Third: Other than the meals, which are included in the fare, everything is Very Expensive. The glass of champagne we had in the bar car was 25eu each. John’s virgin mohitos were 18eu. There are souvenirs and jewelry to be purchased, but all were twice as expensive as the same items (albeit not VSOE-branded) available elsewhere. You can drink as much water, tea, and coffee as you like, everything else will come with a fee.

Fourth: If you have any mobility issues, you will be Very Unhappy. We don’t, being generally hale, and we found ourselves often clutching the walls for stability as we walked the corridors. The train rocks from side to side when it hits anything like speed and there are plenty of bumps and shakes. Changing clothes can be challenging

Fifth: Similar to number four above, if you can’t sleep with noise, you will be Very Unhappy. There is a lot of racket and although I find it soothing, I can see how others would have difficulty.

There we are, all dressed up and ready to enjoy a meal created by Michelin-star chef, Jean Imbert. Imbert is new to Belmond, having joined them at the start of the 2022 season, coming from Paris’ renowned Hotel Plaza Athenee. Billed as provided by purveyors at each stop and designed to accentuate the VSOE-specific experience, the meals are elaborate.

We had a choice of blue lobster served with vegetable soup with black truffle caviar or slow roasted Charolais beef fillet and bone marrow with Bordelaise sauce. Each was accompanied by an array of zucchini, eggplants, & tomato, and a Chayote squash au gratin. Everyone was invited to partake of a selection of cheeses and dessert was a chocolate cream and vanilla bavaroise with soft coffee heart on crunchy almonds with fresh mango coulis. When all of that was finished, we were presented with mignardises. All of the food was very good, although not perfect. Perhaps they oversold it a bit?

Service was excellent and attentive, a quality of the VSOE that was true in every case. The atmosphere was truly exceptional. The fabric-covered lamps glow, the linens are crisply luxurious, the fine china, silver, crystal gleam softly.

We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

When we returned to our cabin we found it converted into a bedroom with an upper and lower berth, our robes and slippers laid out for us to change into. It was super cozy and lovely. The beds are not as wide or long as what most of us call “twin.” Someone more than six feet tall would not be comfortable. I’m sure two people cuddling (or canoodling) would manage just fine, but I wouldn’t recommend trying to sleep together in one berth.

It’s a bit of a magic trick — where did all of this come from? How did it get put together? Here’s a cute picture from Belmond to give you an idea of what the cabins look like, before and after.

John took the top berth and Lisa the lower. You can hear some noise of people traveling the halls, and you can hear louder noises from neighboring cabins. Overall, however, you can’t hear normal conversations as long as the cabin doors are closed.

We both agree that the beds are more comfortable than many hotel beds. The pillows were excellent, and the bedding cozy. It was a little tricky keeping the room cool, but we ended up just opening the window behind the shade and it worked out well.

Warning: the rest of the trip did not go well for Lisa, and therefore not so much for John either. Skip this italicized part if you just want to know the next nice thing that happened.

Some part of the meal did not, shall we say? *agree* with Lisa, and she lost everything from the entire day in a series of violent upheavals. Not at all fun and we’re not going to have any more details than that. She basically slept until after noon the next day, and drowsed much of the time after the cabin had been put back to its day configuration. To top it off, she went right from food ill to getting the ‘flu (running a fever and all of that).

Not Fun.

End of icky section

John spent much of the night on alert to assist his wife, and also slept in very late the next day. Basically, if there was lovely scenery in Switzerland, we completely missed it. And breakfast, which we are told is very nice.

That said, we can both speak to the excellent service our steward provided. Helene was gracious about being woken at 3am to help, and even fetched the train doctor. (He provided Immodium, which wasn’t helpful, and a thermometer, which was.) Extra water was brought without being asked for, and we were able to cancel breakfast. Amusingly, she, being young and super healthy, was especially distressed that Lisa was missing out on all the yummy food. Helene took the initiative and put together a yogurt and berry tray to accompany Lisa’s fourth pot of mint tea. It was a good example of how tasty breakfast would have been, it’s true.

Meanwhile, John made it to the second lunch seating.

*shmancy lunch

By the time tea time arrived, Lisa felt well enough to have a bit of something more substantial. We enjoyed the tea (mint) and two dainty cakes. Not very much food, and a bit of a letdown after the magnificence of the tea we’d had the day prior. But John wasn’t particularly hungry after his lunch, so it’s a wise decision on the part of train management.

We spent the several hours of the afternoon reading and occasionally looking out at the scenery. Eventually the announcement came that we were nearing Santa Lucia Station. That’s the time to pack up all your things, settle your bar tab(s), and take care of gratuities. Helene stopped by not long before we arrived to tell us how we would be met on the platform by a local representative who would make sure we got our luggage and see us to our hotel.

We disembarked, thanking Helene profusely for her care and thanking everyone we met, to find our luggage already waiting for us. The local rep (we missed her name, sorry) was sweet and asked after Lisa’s health (the news had made the rounds, it seems). Part of the included service is a water taxi to your hotel, and we expected to be put on board one, but it was even better. We joined another couple and all of us, rep included, boarded a taxi (our bags were handled by the taxi staff). With no further ado we headed out into the Grand Canal. First stop was the other couple, just across the water from the station, and so we had the taxi almost to ourselves as we cruised along.

It was magical. All of the buildings lit from within and gleaming in that special way that light on water offers. It was a wonderful way to arrive in Venice.

Imagine for a moment that you are stepping off a bus into an ordinary car park. Then, as you walk between a couple of delivery vans you see it: the Belmond Venice Simplon-Orient-Express train, with a line of staff waiting to greet you in front of the carriages in their distinctive navy blue and cream.

The train is eighteen carriages long and made up of two cars with “Grand Suites,” ten cars with sleeping carriages for guests, two for staff accommodations, three dining cars, and the “bar car.” We were in one of three “Tiger Lily” themed sleeping carriages, all built in 1929, designated Carriage D, Cabin 1.

Our Steward, Helene, met us at the carriage entrance and explained that our luggage would be delivered momentarily. She then went over the details of our cabin, gave us a key and explained to us how to lock and unlock our cabin. By then, our luggage having arrived, she bade us a warm welcome and left to assist the next guests. Inside the cabin was a charming packet of VSOE stationary, a note of welcome from the Train Manager, a small bottle of prosecco, still and sparkling mineral water, a map of the train journey, and a charmingly illustrated booklet about the train.

The cabins are small enough that you may want to take turns dressing for dinner. (I looked it up and a standard double cabin is 1903 mm x 1478 mm which is about 6.2 ft by 4.8 ft.) Each has different upholstery, but the overall layouts are very similar: the main seating area has a comfortable banquette, small folding table, a stool with fabric cushion, and a lamp. Your storage is in a narrow rack above the window and a wide upper luggage rack along the wall across from the sofa, There are a couple of hooks above the sofa. Each cabin has a small radiator, a window which can be lowered from the top, a small fan, reading lights for each bunk, and two 220-volt European style 2-pin sockets.

In the corner is the wash basin, an ingenious closet containing a sink with hot and cold water taps, a mirror, glasses, more bottled water, several hand towels, a razor power socket, and a collection of toiletries created by Temple Spa. There were also two sets of kimono-style robes and terrycloth slippers.

Some of you may have noticed two (big) gaps in our description of the cabin, and it’s true: there are no toilets or showers in these cabins. There is a single toilet stall at the end of the carriage (opposite to ours, we had to walk the length every time we used the facilities). To be fair, it’s kept immaculately clean and was rarely occupied. Everyone has to do without a sluice until they arrive in their Venice accommodations. (There is also no air conditioning, but that is less urgent when you can roll down a window and get fresh air.) Nonetheless, the cabin was incredibly comfortable as we left Calais and began to wend our way through France towards Paris and beyond.

One of the things Helene explained to us is that we needed to choose one of two seating’s for dinner and that the Maître d’hôtel would be coming by after departure to inquire. The choices were 18:45 and 9:30 and we could specify any preferences (such as sitting with or near others, or which dining car you want). There are three restaurant cars, each with distinctive decor: The Cote d’Azur (built in 1929) has lovely Lalique glass panels showing classical figures holding grapes and upholstered in a medium blue pattern with gray curtains. The Etoile du Nord (built in 1926) features beautiful marquetry and is dark green upholstery and gray curtains. L’Orientale (built in 1927) features Chinese-style lacquer wall panels with upholstery in gold and cream curtains. We had no preference and were seated in the Cote d’Azur, which turned out to be our favorite.

Soon after departure, we made our way to the bar car, #3674. Here we enjoyed a glass of champagne, the music from the pianist, and the company of other train goers.

The dress code aboard the VSOE, as their materials state, is “There is no such thing as over-dressed!” No where is that more evident than at dinner. Formal is the way to go, with a small amount of leeway given for being aboard a train. This is not the time for the 5″ Jimmy Choo heels, nor that gown that involves hoops or crinoline. There were a lot of sequins, satin, jewels, and the length was calf or heel. Men were in dark suits or tuxedos. It was very elegant.

We shimmied into our formal wear, both in navy blue, took a few pictures, then made our stately way to our dining car.

The original subtitle for this series was “Trip Of a Lifetime” ( or “TOAL”) and, just to cut to the chase, that is an exact description of the journey from London to Venice on the Venice-Simplon Orient Express (“VSOE” after this). I’d had this trip penciled in from when our move to Europe was barely more than a whispered suggestion. I had first dreamed of riding the Orient Express as a young girl, after reading…. well, you know the book. I gave up on owning a pony or ruling absolutely over all the earth (you had your dreams, I had mine ok?) but the Orient Express has hung in there with me for all these years, and we are now at the culmination of this dream. Let’s go!

John and I were up at a relatively early hour as our train would be leaving Victoria Station at 9:30am. Of course we were packed and ready to go from the night before, leaving only our day clothes and toiletries to take care of. Moreover, it was a single line on the tube, making it utter simplicity for us.

One thing about the VSOE, you really need to be thoughtful about what you want to take on board. There isn’t a lot of room in the cabins, and management limits you each to a small bag and one case. They will happily take all the luggage you care to bring to your final destination, but it is stowed freight-style until you arrive. We opted to just bring a backpack and garment bag and were glad to have had so little to deal with.

Just to break for a moment, I’m not sure we’ve shared our appreciation for the hotel which has been our lodging in all of these journeys in and through London — Hyatt Place East.

The hotel is located outside the central core, which mostly means its not super expensive. (Although, being London, all lodging is more than a little brutal.) It is just a few short blocks to the Whitechapel and Aldgate underground stations, making it dead easy to get to anywhere in the city. While its not direct to Gatwick, our new favorite airport, a quick cab ride from London Bridge makes it nearly so.

Back to the important bits . . .

Victoria Station is great. Full of commuters, of course; it’s always been the hub for the British Pullman trains, the luxury trains which would provide the starting point for our TOAL. In an inevitable digression, it’s important that y’all know that the VSOE does not operate in Britain, but starts in Calais for those of us starting the journey in London. (In a digression within a digression: Poirot’s journey in the famous book about the murder starts in Istanbul and ends in London.) [Is this like the 4th wall of acting? If so, did we just break the 16th wall?]

The British Pullman area is against the left wall of the station, and it’s not well-signed for the sleepy. Like, there’s only so many places it could be, like most train stations there are only so many directions you can walk around, but still. You can’t see any sign, until you are almost on top of it which makes it a skootch nervous-making.

We checked our bags and were given a folder with our Pullman car and seat assignment information, as well as our sleeping cabin number. No food was offered, so one of us went hunting for a muffin and tea, easily found of course. We were almost the first to show up, so it was a lot of fun to people-watch as more passengers arrived. It was, a bit surprisingly, a varied group. There were couples like us celebrating life events, families spending Very Special Events, and a few people who’d done the trip before and were enjoying it again. Pretty much everyone took the dress code seriously; although one older guy was in chinos and a polo shirt, his (much-younger) wife was in a cocktail dress and jewels. (Clearly the trip was her idea and he was there to keep her company. He seemed like a kind of a grump every time we saw him.)

When it came close to the arrival time, many of us went out to the track area to watch the British Pullman cars pull in. It was well worth braving the chill.

This is an exquisitely beautiful train of restored 1920s/30s/50s cars. Each features plush armchairs in open-plan saloons, arranged as intimate tables for two or four on each side of the main aisle. There are enclosed 4-seat compartments at the ends (called coupés) for people interested in privacy for their party.

Can I just say that I think ergonomics have not improved on the comfort of these armchairs? Hundred year old chairs and I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfy-cozy.

After we’re all boarded, the train left the station and began it’s slow journey across the Thames past Battersea Power Station, and then headed to Folkestone. Our car was the Minerva, built in 1927 and appointed with swags, crystal, silver, plush fabric, and everywhere you look — gorgeous! Lisa basically just GLOWED the whole time we were on this train, She was so ‘high’ at how perfectly it matched her vision of what this trip would be like. And to be clear – this is the warm-up train.

Even the bathrooms are *perfect*. I mean, look at this floor.

Over the next few hours, as you meander through the British countryside full of meadows, distant castle ruins, and sheep, you are served a lovely three-course brunch with bottomless Bellinis* (like, ok, the entire trip is a level of expensive I’ve never even considered acceptable before, and we’ll talk about that later on, but once you’ve paid at least they don’t nickel and dime you after that) made of prosecco and white peach puree. The bellinis were divine, so much better than the ones we had at Harry’s Bar in Venice, and perfect way to connect to our destination. (John here for just a second: I am occasionally giddy at the fact that we get to live a life where we can make informed comparisons between the Bellinis on the VSOE and the pub in Venice where Hemingway used to drink.)

The food did not disappoint (although you have no options unless you have allergies). We began with a “Battersea Bowl” of granola and fresh berries over whipped yogurt with a tangy citrus syrup. We then enjoyed perfectly poached eggs, silky smoked salmon, and a crisp crumpet. Dessert was a cracked-top pastry which we’ve only ever seen on GBBO and the menu reminds me is called a Choux au Craquelin.

The couple across from us were very nice people, British and celebrating a major anniversary, and we enjoyed chatting with them.

Finally, we arrived at Folkestone where we disembarked and got on . . .

buses.

Honestly, this part of the journey seemed to come as a surprise to many of us. We went from the gorgeousness of the restored train to something so plebeian. They were very nice buses, with tables and couches instead of typical bus seating, but still . . . buses. The highlight for us was meeting a family who we ended up connecting with a number of times over the journey. They’ll come up again later, but the short version for now is that the mom and dad had a clutch of sons and a daughter who all seemed to have good heads on their shoulders and didn’t have a lot of pretensions, but the deal was that they basically had carte blanche to celebrate their 21st birthday. Several had huge parties, but the most recent celebrant had been a train enthusiast his whole life, so the family and loved ones were taking the fancy choo choo. Anyway – the buses took us to a terminal, where we went through British Customs. We were there for about 30 minutes and passengers were able to get off and wander around the shops and food court, get money from the ATM, or use the restrooms. Then we re-boarded and drove about 15 minutes to another terminal, where we went through French customs.

Trains cannot cross the Channel Tunnel, so the solution is to load the bus aboard a car-carrying EuroTunnel shuttle train. It is quite an interesting experience to be seated in a non-moving coach as it sits within a moving train.

Finally, Calais.

Finally, the Venice-Simplon Orient Express.

The short answer is that we’re fortunate beyond words for how well it has turned out. This isn’t actually obvious at first glance. The apartment we’ve moved in to, which we were smitten with at first glance, has turned out to have a couple of almost-literally fatal flaws, to the point where we are moving out early to get to a new place. That story will probably come in more detail later, but the fact that we are packing up everything we own, again, slightly less than 4 months after we did it the last time, is certainly not optimal. Our first trip out of the country was not a resounding success. I mean let’s not kid ourselves, we saw and did some really amazing things, but we were overwhelmed at times in Barcelona and the chaos in the middle of our trip to France left us off-balance even as we tried to salvage the experience (which we did by and large). Certain goals that we set for ourselves and our health are more work-in-progress than mission-accomplished; as anybody’s therapist will tell them, the one thing you are certain to take with you wherever you go is yourself. I remember as a kid I heard “wherever you go, there you are” and thought “well that’s dumb.” Hang on, younger me, it’ll make sense one day. How exactly is it so amazing then?

Shockingly, we’ll explain by telling you a long story. Way back when we were in the planning stages of uprooting our lives and moving to a foreign country, we’d talk about why exactly we wanted to do it. For my (John’s) part, there was this hypothetical story I’d keep going back to. “Whenever we’re in a big city like New York or London or … wherever, you read the paper or Time Out Istanbul or or or … and read about all sorts of amazing cultural events that don’t even make the news. Like, when Lisa surprised me with a trip to New York to see Hamilton while the original cast was still there (<—brag), we dug around in the papers and found a little play that you never heard of outside of the city, called “The Woodsman”, and by golly if it wasn’t one of our most favorite theatrical experiences ever. These things are happening, all the time. We’re always seeing reviews of gallery exhibitions or plays or concerts that are taking place in far-flung corners of the world, and they might as well be in Narnia. How amazing would it be if we could actually go to these things?” Side note: whenever we travel to an English-speaking destination we make a point of rooting around for local theater options; we’ve had fantastic experiences in places like Dublin and London. More stories for another time. Anyway.

A couple weeks ago my news feed brought up a review of an exhibition going on at the British Museum in London, The World of Stonehenge. It sounds absolutely fascinating. Interesting. I mention it to Lisa and we both think it sounds neat. Then, a couple days later, another review pops up: A Century of the Artist’s Studio. It looks really fascinating, if maybe a little brief. The mental tea kettle starts to rattle. Then the dominoes start to teeter: in Oxford at this same time is Pissarro: Father of Impressionism. Now the kettle is whistling. We do some quick checks of the calendar, fiddle with a half-dozen websites and, just like that, we’ve got three days at the end of May where we fly to London, see a couple of amazing exhibitions, hop on the train for a day trip to Oxford to see the Pissarro and just sight-see one of the great universities of the world, then back to London to chomp on a Raphael exhibition at the National Gallery that we didn’t even know was there when we planned the trip. Do you see what I mean? Even now that we’re paying closer attention, a pretty fantastic event was going on that is aligned perfectly with our interests and we’d never have heard about it, but here we are seeing it.

Another story. Lisa likes the beach. Waaaaay more than I do, although I’m coming around. Back in the States we would occasionally try to work out a trip every couple of years to somewhere with decent beaches so we could sun ourselves and splash around a bit. This year, she says she’d like some beach time for her birthday. No problem. Plan A is to head to the Greek islands to hit the Mediterranean, but the truth is we were just there a couple years ago and that trip left a mark (another story for another time) so maybe give that a rest. So instead, right now we’re in the middle of planning a few weeks in the south of France and the Loire valley. We’ll splash around in Nice for awhile, then head up into the center of the country and take a gander at a dozen gorgeously-restored castles and their magnificent gardens.

Oh, and in October we’re taking the Orient Express to Venice to spend a week, and we’re trying to sort out which cities’ Christmas markets we want to visit this year. And when we aren’t hitting the road, we live in a charming European city complete with cobblestone streets and an easy pace to life. Whatever travails we’re going through, bumps in the road or whatever you’d like to call it, the truth of the matter is that we are living exactly the life we’d hoped to be living; we know it, and we’re so so grateful for it.