For anybody who was born before 1990, train travel is intrinsically linked with childhood. For me, with the three-day journeys the family undertook annually to visit my grandparents in Kerala. I remember loving the first-class cabins with their sliding doors that turned the train into my personal fief. My sister and I would play at making the train our permanent home — no school to attend, no station to get down at, just travelling up and down the country in that first-class cabin. But a train ride was more than a game, of course…it evoked a sense of romance and adventure that no quick airplane trip can offer. Standing at the open door of a moving train with your face pressed into the wind, passing unnoticed through nondescript villages and massive cities, buying a cup of steaming sweet chai in the middle of the night at a nameless station — the intimate moments of train travel. But, as I discovered last month on the Golden Chariot, a luxury train journey is a different game altogether.
The Golden Chariot is the first luxury tourist train in Karnataka, and in fact in all of South India, and we travelled on its first commercial run. The brainchild of Karnataka Tourism, it’s been a work in progress for a while; last year, the department entered into a profit-sharing partnership with the Mapple Group of Hotels, who manages the hospitality on and off board the train.
I first set my eyes on the purple beauty at Bangalore’s Yashwantpura station and am welcomed aboard by my coach attendant, Swami. I take this as a good omen: R.K. Narayan’s most enduring character is Swami, who lived in Malgudi, a sleepy town inspired by Mysore. I have always associated Mysore with the writer and the city is our first halt. Everything fits.
The vital stats of the train read thus: 11 guest coaches, two restaurant cars, one bar and a compartment with the spa, gym and business centre. A conference coach will soon be added. The residential coaches are named after the dynasties that ruled over Karnataka, including Kadamba, Rashtrakuta and Hoysala. I am in Shatavahana, named after the dynasty that ruled over parts of the Deccan around 235BC. I do a check of the facilities in my cabin — twin beds, night stand, built-in writing desk, a teeny wardrobe and a weeny plasma television. The attached bath is larger than I expected, and has a shower with running hot water, fluffy towels and toiletries. But best of all there’s the sliding door of my childhood train journeys and a large clear glass window right above my bed with thick drapes.
The common coaches are equally lush, with the interiors inspired by the state’s rich architectural heritage. Madira, the bar, is based on the private audience hall in the Mysore Palace; the restaurants, Nalapaka and Ruchi, and the cabins reflect the more complex Vijayanagara and Hoysala architecture. The walls may be muted but the furnishings are resplendent — red and gold in Madira and deep violet and floral prints in the restaurants. A palace-hotel on wheels.
On the first night, as we roll out from Bangalore towards Mysore, the guests meet up at Madira for drinks and tentative conversation. Over the next few days, we settle into an easy routine — wake up at 7am, breakfast at 8am, leave for excursion at 8.30am, back by 7.30pm, shower, drinks at Madira and then dinner at one of the restaurants before hitting the luxurious sack at 11.30pm.
Several great dynasties have ruled, fought over and perished in Karnataka, and all have left their mark in the form of architectural treasures. The state boasts two Unesco World Heritage Sites, Hampi and Pattadakal, but there are many more equally stunning structures; our itinerary ambitiously attempts to take in as many of these as possible. That makes for a somewhat hectic journey. But on the train, especially in the evenings, the atmosphere is relaxed. Madira is where the more socially inclined passengers meet. The gathering breaks up into small groups; topics of conversation range from the difference between the Carnatic and Hindustani schools of music to the theatre scene in Australia.
The service is impeccable through the journey. Swami brings us bed tea at exactly 6.30am each morning. At Madira, the waiters know everyone’s poison by day two. And the food is outstanding. Six chefs create delicious meals in two tiny onboard kitchens. At meal times, executive chef Deepak Chaubey (the most important man to know on the train) can be seen pacing up and down the restaurants, explaining a dish to a foreign guest, checking if all is to taste and graciously accepting our congratulations on yet another top-notch meal. He tells me about the many challenges his team faces, “The lack of space is the biggest limitation. We cannot use cooking gas on the train, only electricity can be used according to railway rules. But we make everything on the train, even the muffins.” And how does he procure the ingredients? He tells me he has done an exhaustive market survey. “You get the best meat in Mysore, so I stock up on meat there, and the freshest vegetables and fruits at Gadag.” Adding proudly, “I personally do all the purchasing.” The results are evident each day at the table. The soups are adventurous classics — roasted bell pepper and tomato, prawn and lemon grass, carrot and coriander. The Continental menu includes chicken chasseur, grilled lamb chops and poached fillet of seer. The excellent Indian thalis range from Mangalorean to Kashmiri.
The glorious mealtimes sometimes occasioned discomfort for spoilt travellers like us. A luxury train is unique anywhere and it was a curiosity at every station on our route. We’d often find ourselves picking genteelly at our multi-course meals with silverware while a large audience watched from outside the picture windows. For those few minutes we were the sights and those on the outside, the tourists.
At other times — when we returned to being the watchers instead of the watched — our schedule went like this: each day we would set out, shepherded by two able guides, Pradeep and Sridhar, to see the wonders of Karnataka. We visited Srirangapatna, the island fortress of Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan, and the Mysore Palace one day. Another day was reserved for Kabini. The two-hour drive to the sanctuary from Mysore was tiring and there were grumbles, despite all of us spotting elephants during the boat ride and the safari. But when we visited the 12th-century Hoysala temples at Belur and Halebid the next day, there were no protests. The star-shaped Hoysaleswara and Chennakesava temples were covered with exquisite sculptures.
In the evening we climbed the 648 steps to the Jain temple dedicated to the 58ft-high Gomateswara statue. Some of the less agile (but not necessarily the oldest) tourists took the palanquin to the top. The spectacular monolith is in excellent condition for a 1,000-year-old outdoor statue. The climb was steep but the view of the town of Sravana-belagola, with its over-sized temple tank, was enchanting. Another excursion saw us at Pattadakal, a complex of temples close to the Malaprabha river, and probably the only place in India where you can see North and South Indian styles of architecture side by side. Nearby is the village of Aihole, which has a number of temples, including a Sun Temple that looks a lot like our Parliament. Some of the temples here date back to the fifth century. The visitor will find many signs of experimentation, including the temple with two sanctums. Later that day we visited Badami to see its four sixth-century cave temples. We made our way through a pig-infested slum to this amazing site. Holding sticks to ward off the militant monkeys that reside here, our guides led us to one stunning cave after another. The sculptures of Harihara, Ardhanareeshwara, Maha Vishnu seated on Anantha and the one depicting the Vamana-Mahabali story were quite extraordinary.
Hampi is, of course, the jewel in the crown of Karnataka’s heritage. I had visited this erstwhile capital of the formidable Vijayanagara Empire years ago and had been struck by the melancholic grandeur of the rocks and the ruins. The granite boulders that surround and form a part of the city seem to have been placed just so by some giant, centuries ago. Some of them seem so delicately placed I worry that a slight breeze will bring them all tumbling down. Even the thriving fields and plantations that greedily hug the perimeter of the site, though illegal, seem an integral part of the landscape. We spent the day wandering around Hampi and in the evening reached the Vitthala temple. There was a dance performance by a local troupe, which was quite mediocre, but the setting — the Vitthala temple and the boulders in the background — rendered the evening magical. And then when the temple was lit up we felt blessed.
It was at the Vitthala, sitting on a platform close to the Stone Chariot, that I finally acknowledged the thought that had been creeping up on me at several of the sites we had visited — that perhaps the best mankind has to offer lies in the past. Here among the ruins was irrevocable proof of the impermanence of life, evidence that all things come to an end.
As I lay waiting for sleep later that night, the train was making its run to Goa — the final halt before the overnight return trip to Bangalore — and I could hear the creaking of the train wheels, the tracks changing noisily underneath and the whistle of the engine up ahead. In this luxurious train inspired by the kings and architects of ages past, I felt cocooned, privileged and pampered. With a last thought like that, of course, I slept like a baby that night.
The information
The train: The Golden Chariot is a fully air-conditioned train with 11 residential coaches. Each coach has four cabins. While the cabins essentially sleep two, many of them have a foldable bunk bed as well. All cabins have a reasonably large attached bath. The train has a well-equipped bar, Madira and two excellent restaurants — Nalapaka and Ruchi. There is a spa and a gym as well. A conference coach will be added by end April.
The route: Bangalore-Mysore (excursions to Srirangapatna, Chamundi Hills and Kabini)-Hassan (Belur-Halebid and Sravanabelagola)-Hospet (Hampi)-Gadag (Aihole-Pattadakal and Badami)-Goa (Old Goa and beaches)-Bangalore.
Guests have the option of starting their journey in Bangalore or in Goa and dis-embarking at Goa or Bangalore.
For the excursions, the organisers provide transportation in air-conditioned buses that are very comfortable. On many of these trips lunch is organised at a good local hotel. When there are no good hotels in town, like at Hampi and at Hassan, lunch is provided on board the train.
Tariff: The 7N/8D package starts at $3,080 (Rs 92,400) per person on triple occupancy in the high season (October to March). The tariff includes accommodation, all meals, sightseeing tours and entrance fees. It does not include alcohol, laundry, phone calls, business car facilities and tips.
Contact: 011-42866600; www.thegoldenchariot.co.in