Renowned train enthusiast Michael Portillo takes Switzerland’s Glacier Express from St Moritz to Zermatt in ‘Excellence Class’
I have just taken my seat on the Glacier Express and, before the train has departed, my champagne has already been served. It arrives not in a flute but a saucer, that wide flat glass I associate with Audrey Hepburn movies. It’s a hint that I’m in for an old-fashioned experience of gracious luxury.
This is a train whose panoramic design, with windows extending into the roof line, tells you that you’ll enjoy scenic wonders. Without them we could not fully enjoy the Rhine Gorge. As the train climbs towards the river’s source, the glacial blue torrent chases through a chasm. We see its rocky walls through the glass roof rising sheer up to 300m – white, jagged and awe-inspiring. This is Switzerland’s Grand Canyon.
The train has departed from St Moritz, birthplace of winter sports and host of the first two Winter Olympic Games. Passengers boarding there are soon gasping at the feats of engineering involved in building the line at the beginning of the last century. It descends through corkscrew turns and then curves around the Landwasser viaduct, where a single track perches on six limestone arches rising 65m. This is the most iconic image of the route, the photograph that attracts rail travellers from every continent.
A narrow gauge railway can negotiate tight bends, and we often see our bright red locomotive snaking ahead of us, sometimes powering upwards, now plunging and lunging on the downslopes. The many keen photographers on board are ecstatic.
There are 291 bridges and 91 tunnels on the 291km route of the Glacier Express. This train journey is not just about moving between two beautiful Swiss villages. It is an experience, what now we call a “destination” in itself. Speed is the least of our concerns: the “express” averages just over 42km per hour. There is no reason to rush the scenery, and certainly not our lunch.
After Chur the altimeter in the carriage shows us passing 1,000m, and now it is snowing hard and the valley is blindingly white. The Glacier Express has been running since 1930, and traditionally had three classes. Recently, that state of affairs has been reinstated with the introduction of an Excellence Class that trumps first class. There are single seats on either side of the aisle, and each passenger is supplied with a tablet computer that shows and explains the route, and offers a selection of music. A bar at one end of the car is promisingly adorned with ice buckets of bubbly.
“Guests” may enjoy a seven-course meal during the six-hour journey between two of Switzerland’s most spectacular Alpine resorts, St Moritz and Zermatt. Being ascetic by nature, I settle for just a mint soup, a Swiss beef tenderloin and a plate of cheeses. The crockery, glassware, linen and service are exquisite. The menu is long and detaining. The excellent food and still wines are sourced along the route, and they have been prepared with care and pride.
So, I make my way to the kitchen to thank the chef, Sebastian, for my lunch. I find him in a narrow galley where he’s spent much of his past 31 years. A huge pot of spaghetti carbonara that will shortly feed the crew stands on the hob, and it’s on the griddle next to it that he’s cooked my steak to medium-rare perfection.
At Disentis we stop to change engines, because we need a cog locomotive to climb through 2,000m, and then to control our descent on the other side. Once underway again we pass tiny villages, each dominated by its church tower, run alongside coloured poles that mark the roads that are used in summer but now lie buried beneath the snow, and skirt the ski slopes. We edge past cable cars and winter sports enthusiasts.
I am delighted to be seeing Switzerland in winter, as an icy wonderland; but in spring I would have the joy of wild flowers, in summer the cattle would be in the high pastures, and in autumn the foliage would burst with colours. It’s debatable which is best.
The old railway line used to climb up through the Furka Pass. The journey took much longer then, and the route was not usable in winter. In 1982, Switzerland opened one of its longest tunnels at this point, stretching 15km. The Glacier Express disappears into the subterranean darkness. But for those who miss the old days, steam services still pant up to the pass, but only in summer.
In the vicinity of the Aletsch Glacier, after Fiesch, I glimpse an extraordinary sight. About 70m directly below my train to the left, a rail viaduct crosses at right angles to the track that we are on. How can we possibly descend to there? As I form the question, the Glacier Express enters a tunnel that veers sharply to the right, propelling us through a 270-degree spiralling turn, delivering us neatly on to the viaduct.
The train terminates in Zermatt. The Matterhorn, whose horn is famously crooked, the most iconic Alp, presides over the little town. The enthusiast can now ascend towards it, rising to 3,100m, on the Gornergrat railway.
I end my journey on the Glacier Express musing that it is still possible to step into a bygone age: to experience elegance and excellence.
Read about the rest of Michael’s trip where he celebrates the majesty of Zurich, embraces the way Swizterland works so hard for its visitors and ventures into Lausanne.
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