The
ultra luxurious Blue Train to Cape Town pulled out of the Pretoria station an
hour late. Upon entering my suite, I was greeted by a young woman with a
clipped Zulu accent, “My name is Eunice. I
am your butler. I’m here to serve you throughout your trip to Cape Town. You
need something, just call me.” The lush mahogany suite was furnished with two
easy chairs, a writing desk and accompanying chair, a private bathroom and shower,
wardrobe, television, safe deposit box, electrical outlets, and a high-speed Internet
connection. In all my travels, I hadn’t encountered such elegance on a train. “Do you have any laundry?” Eunice asked.
I shook my head, no. “Well then, brunch
will be served at 10:30, dinner at 7:30. Meantime, would you like some
coffee, tea, or juice?” I passed, instead deciding to explore the train.
The observation car, an open non-smoking lounge, was in the rear of the train.
The smokers’ lounge was in the front. In between, there was the diner and another
bar lounge. Throughout the train there was plenty of opportunity to interact
with the other passengers: a group from the States, another from France,
another from Japan, and various individuals from Australia, New Zealand, England,
and South Africa. The meals were sumptuous four course affairs. “For tonight’s dinner, you’ll need to wear a
coat and tie,” Eunice informed me later in the day. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a coat or tie.” “Don’t worry.I will find
something nice for you, Mr. Beck.” Due to some earlier rain and a woman,
who had gotten sick on the train and had to be evacuated, we arrived Cape Town five
hours behind our 27-hour schedule, but no one seemed to mind.
