The knocking grows louder, momentarily disorientating me from a deep sleep. It’s pitch black, the room sways, and a polite voice quietly shouts, “breakfast”. Opening the door, Nick, Great Western Railway’s hospitality manager, greets me with a smile and a tray crammed with pastries and coffee. Wobbling back to bed, I fumble around to open the blind and as it rattles up the window, a stream of golden sunlight rushes into my cabin. Squinting at the Cornish hills gliding by, I focus on nonchalant cows munching lush green grass and buttercups.
Eight hours before, I had boarded GWR’s Night Riviera sleeper train at London Paddington, beneath the gaze of its famous bear. Victorian arches glowed orange and the diesel engine hum created a nostalgic atmosphere until overexcited passengers bundled clumsily into their cabins. That liveliness extended into the restaurant car where a young family stocked up on biscuits, while retired Swedish women on holiday shared a table with young builders heading home. Over a nightcap, train enthusiast Howard Peach told me “there’s nothing quite like going to bed in one place, and waking in another”. As the train lurched out of the station, I tucked myself between a fluffy duvet and soft mattress, swaddling me into slumber. It hadn’t been a perfect sleep with squealing brakes and occasional bumps, yet each disturbance left me inquisitive about my location.
