Why do we all go giddy for the British Pullman?
On paper, it’s just an old train, serving posh nosh, rolling on the same steel that ashen bankers do their daily schlep. And yet when Belmond’s Pullman is uttered something funny happens: pupils flare, envy foams. Atavistic instincts signal to the listener that being aboard this ballad to that nice moment between the wars is guaranteed to offer the very zenith of experiential pleasure.
I, it turns out, am among the beguiled.
I was invited aboard to test run the train’s new Carriage Club. “The UK’s first cabaret aboard a train,” they said. And, well, I yanked their arm off. I don’t even like cabaret. But aboard the Nostalgia Express, with its invitation to act fancy and ignore the trauma of modern living, I would channel my inner Luhrmann. The fact that I’d be sleeping the night at the nearby Cadogan hotel (also under Belmond’s aegis) meant I could really lean into some jazz-hands carousing.
Before you arrive, the train’s halcyon powers get into your head and a Kingsman-like transformation occurs. The dusty tux is exhumed, you Google “cummerbund” and your late grandpa appears in a dream, giving you the nod to wear his bequeathed Breitling.
You and your guest then sashay through rush-hour Victoria station with bullet-proof politeness and rented panache, delighting in asking someone, anyone, the way to the Pullman lounge. The soft swing band playing yonder gently smothers “See it. Say it. Sorted” and then, from thin air, a well-turned French 75 appears between thumb and finger. You’re feeling…a bit nervous. But it’s just an old train with wooden walls and decent wine. So why the butterflies?
The British Pullman making its way across the country
The bell rang, so we drank up and tottered up the platform to our carriage, Minerva. Built in 1927, she was part of the Golden Arrow fleet that operated between London and Paris. She was also in Winston Churchill’s funeral train. A gilded gal and no mistake.
Nowadays her deep, bum-cuddling armchairs swaddle you in velvety jacquard as your coupe is filled with fizz. The man with the bottle is part-of-the-furniture Artur, who’s been a white-coat waiter aboard for so long that there’s a teddy bear named after him in the boutique.
Sat beside us, were Darren Styles OBE and his dashing fella Tom Tillmon. “We get through champagne in industrial quantities,” they said – and we loved them for it. Before long our chairs were all swivelled in towards each other, creating the cosiness of a private-dining club.
The food must’ve have been good because I made it disappear in a wine-addled blink. Retro lobster and prawn cocktail, saffron risotto, a pink-perfect beef fillet… Sparkling French turned to English still as, one by one, the acts made our carriage their stage.
“We’ve always wanted to turn the Pullman into a proper party environment,” says the train’s general manager, Craig Moffat. “At the start of the journey, it’ll still be light out, so you can enjoy the gorgeous British countryside along the famous Chiltern Line. But at night, your attention is drawn inwards.”
The Carriage Club’s roll call dance, music, drag, burlesque and magic kept even the most attention poor among us stimulated. Sammy Phoenix – who’s day job is being Sammy Davis Jr – belted out an old Cab Calloway song called Minnie the Moocher. It’s a call-and-repeat number; us four, by now well lubed, were hollering.
Damien aboard the British Pullman
I’m a sucker for close-up magic and the ‘Card Sharp’ made my wined mind pop. How the hell he turned the deck in the lady’s hand into a block of glass is something I hope I never find out. Great fun. As was Coco, whose ability to perform a burlesque routine in the confines of the train’s passageway was a hats-off moment.
After pudding we got up and went for a walk around. Three carriages down, we passed a pair of dazzling twins swishing their sequined bums around and, just for a moment, it really did feel like we were on a ‘30s circus train.
My best point of reference is with Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, where Owen Wilson’s character, Gil, longs for – and then time travels back to – les années folles. Imagine spending the night in your favourite epoch. Not bad for an old train with some decent scran.
BOOK THE BRITISH PULLMAN YOURSELF
The Carriage Club dinners take place monthly, with the next on 27 July and 10 August. Prices per person start at £545 and include a round trip on the luxury British Pullman, A Belmond Train, welcome champagne, five-course dinner by Head Chef, Jon Freeman, and live cabaret performances.
• For more information or to book, please visit the website here