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A Rovos Rail train passes Great Brak River, a seaside town in the Western Cape province of South Africa. Photos: Anna Healy Fenton and handouts

A moving experience

A luxurious train journey from Pretoria to Cape Town offers a champagne-filled, rose-tinted glimpse of South Africa, writes Anna Healy Fenton

Some would see a 52-hour train journey as bliss, others as a short prison term. Even the most rail-averse, however, might be tempted by the thought of being gently swayed to sleep like a big baby in a huge pram; by gourmet meals served in phone-free peace in a 1911 dining car, washed down with unlimited local wine.

A friend told me South Africa's Rovos Rail (www.rovos.com) was like "a gentleman's club on rails with a glass of champagne round every corner". I couldn't wait to flop into a wing-back chair in a restored 1930s carriage and watch beautiful scenery glide by, glass in hand, as the 1,500km trip from Pretoria to Cape Town unfolded.

on entering the plush waiting room at Rovos Rail's private Capital Park station. Putonghua is being spoken - in Pretoria! A sneaky glance at the passenger list while a charming liveried waiter proffers champagne and cucumber sandwiches to those seated on restored Victorian and Edwardian furniture reveals that a third of the 60-odd passengers are from China. We feel right at home.

Capital Park was built with materials salvaged from other stations around the country, as they were being renovated, and the picture of times past is complete when a steam locomotive huffs in to hook up to 20 vintage coaches.

The Big Hole, in Kimberley.

Before boarding, Rovos Rail's founder, Rohan Vos, gathers the passengers for a pep talk. He personally waves off each of his trains as they embark on one of seven routes across Africa. After a warm welcome, we are told to have a great time, dress for dinner and keep our windows closed and shutters down when the train isn't moving: a reminder that South Africa is not the safest place in the world.

Nor is it the most punctual. Our time of departure comes and goes, unlike our train.

"Don't worry about punctuality," reassures train manager Mart, a no-nonsense Afrikaner, as she marches through the carriages, a walkie-talkie in each hand. She says a tardy arrival is guaranteed almost everywhere the train will stop because Rovos is at the mercy of the South African railways network. "We have the watches, but they have the time," she explains, with just a glint of humour.

Finally, the Pride of Africa puffs out of the station, two hours late and watched by a curious ostrich.

A Rovos Rail steam train.

By now late afternoon, rush hour is approaching in the real world. Increasing numbers of weary home-bound workers survey the beautiful train with curiosity as it passes through suburban stations on the outskirts of Johannesburg, 50km or so to the south of Pretoria. The warmth and cocktails cast a rosy glow over all those inside.

Then, without warning, the train - which is no longer being pulled by a steam locomotive, because they can operate only in the Pretoria area - stops abruptly alongside a platform packed with commuters. A crowd surges forward, clearly expecting their ride home to the townships. Black faces are pressed up against the windows, eyes swivelling to take in what must look like the worst excesses of the idle rich. It is impossible to escape the glaring contrast between them, tired and cold, and us, sitting here in pampered comfort. I yank down the shutters to block out the scene. For a few moments I experience panic, fearing the potential for a bizarre situation to turn ugly. But after what feels like an eternity - probably no more than five minutes - our journey continues.

Mart says the train was diverted without notice. Presumably, had we left on time, rush hour would have been avoided.

The Rovos Rail emblem on a locomotive.

Coming that close to everyday life has burst the champagne bubbles somewhat, so dinner is a welcome distraction - and what a dinner! Grilled seared scallops with hollandaise are followed by slow-roasted Karoo lamb shank with spuds, green beans and mushrooms, rounded off with camembert-like blue cheese and a dessert of sago pudding glazed with Turkish apricots. Every Rovos meal features South African specialities, with local wines, desserts and ports.

Replete, many passengers repair to the teak-lined bar or the mahogany-panelled smoking lounge - and later to a warm shower and a wide cabin bed.

The sun rises over an arid land-scape gloriously empty after Hong Kong's clutter.

Just before Kimberley we stop to marvel at a shallow lake and its 23,000 pink flamingos. In Kimberley itself the train stops to let passengers visit the Big Hole, where a farmer discovered diamonds and sparked the rush that spawned the De Beers mining conglomerate in 1888. The diamonds were found in kimberlite in Kimberley's "volcanic pipe". Improved technology means the kimberlite can be re-sieved to find smaller gems, so the town continues to thrive.

Train manager Mart (left) talks to passengers.

Back on the train, following an epic lunch whipped up by six chefs in their tiny galley kitchen, passengers slump into sofas in the lounges, head to the glass observation carriage - more mahogany-lined walls and lamp-lit booths with leather, cane and rattan furniture - or take to their cabins, until interrupted by, first, afternoon tea and, later, another gargantuan dinner.

As the night draws in, we rumble on at about 50km/h through the stark scenery of the Karoo - the "land of thirst"; semi-desert and low scrub that covers large parts of the Northern, Eastern and Western Cape - via the sheep-farming town of Beaufort West. After so much food, Mart's announcement that we may alight at the Whitehill siding for a 5km walk at 8am the following morning seems like a good idea.

A vast breakfast is followed by a brisk trot, by a handful of passengers, through breathtaking mountain scenery to the historic settlement of Matjiesfontein (pronounced Mike-ees-fontein). The train takes on water and supplies while passengers visit the hamlet's little museums, one of which contains a collection of vintage vehicles, among them an incongruous-looking red London Routemaster bus.

Rovos Rail porters.

Mart's description of Matjiesfontein as "a one-horse town without the horse" seems a little harsh given the delightful, Lord Milner Hotel, a perfectly preserved Victorian reminder of the elegant railway hotels built by the colonial British.

After the spectacular passes of Tweedside and Touws River, up at 935 metres, the train descends through the Hex River Valley, passing lush orange groves and wineries established by French Huguenots in the late 17th century, towards Worcester, at 223 metres, the largest town in the Western Cape and the centre of the Cape Winelands. Like moving landscape paintings, views of fruit trees and vines backed by rugged mountains fill the windows.

By now conditioned by Mart to Africa time, we hope to arrive late into Cape Town, but no, Table Mountain soon heralds the end of our on-board idyll.

As we pull in to a back platform of Cape Town's main station, Vos is waiting to greet us, ready to set off again on an 18-day trip to Dar es Salaam.

 

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: A moving experience
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