Scotland Train Travel - Seeing Scotland First Class by Train

The Royal Scotsman shows the best of Scotland

EDINBURGH - It was not the most dignified entrance. The others looked the part, mind you: coming prepared for a glamorous train trip they had packed their finery in Louis Vuitton bags and the like dripping with been-there labels such as Concorde and QE2. Not an Aeroflot tag to be seen.

Me, I had forgotten about lunch while exploring Edinburgh and when it was time to rendezvous at the elegant Balmoral Hotel a notion best described as a native fast-food fantasy sent me dashing across Princes Street to a bakery for a Scotch pie, which to the uninitiated has ingredients as sinister as a haggis.

I found myself in the Edwardian splendour of the Royal Scotsman’s observation car accepting a glass of Pol Roger, Winston Churchill’s favourite champagne, while other hand clutched a paper bag whose aroma threatened to take over the train, if not all of Waverley Station.

Soon enough, however, the piper on the platform called it a day and the Royal Scotsman was off to show us the best of Scotland over the next four nights. Among the 36 passengers were couples from Chile and Canada, a surprising number of British, and one American hedge fund manager who rented a full Highland outfit in Edinburgh.

It was dressy, including two nights in which everyone turned up in formal rig. The wife of the kilted American confessed that getting her husband into all the bits and pieces took close reading of printed instructions -”like dressing a full-size doll,” she explained as the Pol Roger flowed again before dinner.

Then we dined, the setting being two vintage cars with gleaming mahogany, white linen, candles, flowers, crystal and Royal Worcester china. The food was superb, the portions small but tasty. Wines were well chosen, the service just right. Afterwards there was good cognac and 18-year-old Macallan.

The scenery was pretty good too. Less than an hour after waving goodbye to Edinburgh Castle we were west of Glasgow enjoying views of the River Clyde and then running up the West Highland Line along Gare Loch. The single-line track, an old timer, brought back memories with its clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

Later we would come back across Scotland, stop at Perth, then travel north to Inverness, swing west almost to Skye, then steam due east to Elgin and Aberdeen and down the coast. We saw a lot of Scotland, not to mention much of the best, yet the trip was well balanced between track time, stabling (which was what the train did at night) and excursions.

We had a liveried coach as a shadow, which drove us to several castles, a wildlife park, a distillery and a smokehouse, where after seeing smoked salmon in preparation there was an invitation to the owner’s elegant home to sample the product with wine. It was, as they say, first class all the way.

Each time we returned to the train there was a welcoming drink such as Buck’s fizz while at Kyle of Lochalsh one of the staff flourished his bagpipes. The guide knew her stuff (“five million Scots and 15 million sheep”) and the entire performance was orchestrated by a smart young man whose credentials include time at the Lygon Arms, one of Britain’s top country house hotels.

I liked the cabins, perhaps the best of the world’s exclusive club of luxury trains, which come with bathrooms including a good shower. Sleep came easily, either through a count of the day’s sheep or thinking about the clickety-clacks. And there was something inthe night air when the Royal Scotsman stabled next to the Chivas Regal warehouses at Keith.

On a couple of occasions there was entertainment on board after dinner, which went down very well, two couples played bridge daily, and the hedge fund dealer read all the business sections of the papers fetched daily by the staff. “If the stock market keeps going up,” he said one evening as the Pol Roger was passed around, “I’ll be able to afford this kilt.” - The train is owned by Abercrombie & Kent. Price for four nights is U.S. $4150, which includes wines and spirits from the well-stocked bar.

Author: David Wishart