Letting the train take the overnight strain

Maybe it was a subliminal ambition triggered by some version of Murder on the Orient Express or perhaps Michael Palin taking the train as he traipsed across India, but I’ve had a long-time ambition to overnight on a sleeper train – one finally realised in recent weeks.

Straight away it must be said that the Caledonian Sleeper – the overnight train from Edinburgh to London – is no Orient Express. But if it I wouldn’t be on it for two reasons; it wasn’t going between the cities I needed it to be and, even if it was, I could never afford it anyway.

Thirdly, I would have no interest in a carriage full of stuffed shirts on their very best (or worst) behaviour.

So instead of donning formal attire for silver service dinner in the dining car, it was a quick drink in the Club Lounge and a night in a cabin that might be better described as a medium-sized wardrobe.

The bunk beds required a feat of acrobatics that the ensemble from Duck Pond at the Galway International Arts Festival would have stood up and applauded.

And when you got there – wedged between the mattress and the ceiling, the only comparison that came to mind was if you were asked to sleep on the top shelf of a pub’s drinks display.

If the bedroom was a wardrobe, the bathroom was a chest of drawers. There was a shower and a toilet and a wash basin but to access the toilet you pulled up a shelf – and to access the shower you closed that and somehow arched yourself over the wooden cover as the thin jet of water went everywhere expect on your head.

And I loved every minute of it.

Perhaps it was the romance of a golden era of travel, done on a relative budget, and also the idea of going to sleep in Edinburgh and waking in London.