Grand Hibernian brings glamour to train travel
There is something about trains that has captivated me since childhood. Maybe it’s the gentle rocking back and forth as it crisscrosses the country; maybe it’s the mournful sound of the train’s whistle in the night, with its promise of places yet to be seen. Perhaps, best of all, it’s the knowledge that I’m not squeezed into a seat on a plane.
Alas, living in the U.S., I’m not able to indulge my passion for trains much, which makes it all the more wonderful when I’m somewhere where I can. That most recent somewhere was Ireland, and the train wasn’t your common garden type, but the Belmond Grand Hibernian.
Officially launched in August 2016, the Grand Hibernian is a sister train of other Belmond acquisitions, the Venice-Simplon Orient Express and the Royal Scotsman. Often referred to as “country houses on rails,” they embody the essence of luxurious train travel.
I left Dublin’s Heuston Station for a two-night Taste of Ireland tour (north to Belfast on the first day and south to Cork on the second). There is also a four-night Loughs and Legends, or the two itineraries can be combined for a real Irish adventure.
I found that many of those onboard didn’t really care where they were going, it was the train itself that was the appeal. Limited to just 40 passengers, and with a multi-national staff dedicated to fulfilling your every wish, it seems like one giant house party on wheels.
Just name your pleasure in the Observation Bar Car, and the genial bartenders can whip it up — everything from specialty cocktails using gunpowder gin to Manhattans and Whiskey Sours for bourbon lovers such as myself.
About the only thing they can’t conjure up is the lifeblood of Ireland, Guinness on tap, as there is no room for kegs, but they do have a supply of draught in cans.
Meal times in the two exquisitely appointed dining rooms are an excellent way to get acquainted with your fellow passengers. With tables set for four (the Wexford) and six (the Sligo), friendships start to develop with the first dish. My dining companions ranged from an Ohio couple and a Californian to a lady from Edinburgh and a gentleman from Paris.
If dinner is dignified and refined, afterdinner in the bar car gets a bit livelier, when the Jameson flows and the entertainers (a mix of balladeers and musicians) start to warm up.
The train’s public spaces ensure that Ireland’s greatest poet, William Butler Yeats, had it right when he penned: “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t yet met.”
Once it’s time to retire, guests make their way to one of 20 ensuite cabins that combine traditional design and modern amenities. Wood panelling and original watercolours are softened by the addition of soft woollen throws and vases of fresh posies. Since the train “stables” overnight, you’re guaranteed of a restful sleep.
I loved the warmth of my cabin and its “oh-so-comfortable” bed, although I have to admit the bathroom provided challenges — most notably taking a shower without bruising elbows and barking shins.
While, as I said earlier, some train aficionados don’t care where they go, I’m as enamoured of the destinations as I am of getting there. On Day 1, we headed north to Belfast, crossing the imaginary border that separates the Republic of Ireland from Northern Ireland, part of the United Kingdom.
Our afternoon tour of Belfast included two stops — the first an area associated with Ireland’s “troubles,” and the second, a tribute to an earlier tragedy.
Black taxis took us to Belfast’s two once-volatile neighbourhoods — Shankill Road, where the residents are Protestant, and The Falls, a Catholic enclave — the scenes of much violence during the period of unrest that began in the 1960s.
Since the Good Friday Agreement 19 years ago, things have quietened down. While people of both religions move freely back and forth during the day, our guide informed us that the gates are locked every night.
Our destination was the Peace Wall, actually a series of 48 walls (most of them in Belfast) totalling 35 kilometres in length. Three times as high as the Berlin Wall, they have come to be a tourist attraction and a form of artistic expression. Murals adorn the walls, and hopeful messages from dignitaries such as Bill Clinton and the Dalai Lama are scrawled across their surface (visitors are encouraged to add their own message). The current time frame calls for all 48 of the walls to come down by 2023, but their popularity with visitors might alter that plan.
Our next stop was the Titanic Museum, opened in 2012 on the site where the illfated ship was built and outfitted. Its stunning angular design is meant to mimic the prow of a ship, although the 3,000 individual silver aluminum shards on the facade have led to it being nicknamed “the iceberg.” With due respect to imitation museums, this is the real deal and presents a fascinating arena to tell the story of the people, place and events that shaped the tragedy.
Our second day’s journey took us back into the Republic of Ireland to its southernmost county, Cork. Along the way we travelled through the aptly named Golden Vale, skirting Tipperary, and through Kilkenny, a lush farming area from where the best Irish cheeses come.
Cork is home to Ireland’s oldest city, Waterford, founded by the Vikings in the ninth century, and today, the location of one of the country’s most famous exports, Waterford crystal.
Grand Hibernian passengers have the opportunity to watch as master craftsmen blow the glass and etch designs into a variety of crystal objects, from longstemmed wine glasses to trophies for sporting events.
As fascinating as this was, I was even more enthralled with the other stop — Curraghmore House, seat of the Marquis of Waterford, where afternoon tea is presided over by the lady of the manor.