Chapter 1: Departure

The Caledonian Sleeper runs 16 coaches long, not counting the engine unit pulling it at the front. This made it one of the longer commuter trains in England, surpassed only, to my knowledge, by the Eurostar, which boasted 20 coaches heading southbound towards Belgium and France. An impressive sight, there on the platform, even if they were dwarfed by the freight trains that I occasionally saw in the wild, boasted upwards of a hundred carriages. All 16 coaches would arrive at Edinburgh, led by an electric locomotive that drew power from the electrified rails below. At Edinburgh, the electric locomotive would depart, the passenger coaches would be divided into three segments, each to be fitted with a diesel locomotive before continuing northward onto Aberdeen, Inverness and Fort William respectively.

It was a convoluted setup, one that had taken me a fair bit of time to wrap my head around as I did my research (i.e. browsed Wikipedia) in preparation for my trip, but which supposedly made for a more efficient and cost-effective journey for all concerned. In any event, the specific layout of each train varied, depending on how many passengers were headed to which destination. I’d booked the best room for Fort William, assigned on my ticket to carriage A: all the way at the very back of the platform. Lovely.

At least my luggage was already taken care of, saving me dragging a heavy suitcase along the platform. The cold autumn wind bit at me on the way, making me somewhat regret not bringing a coat over my suit jacket; it wouldn’t have been needed once aboard, but would have made the walk a lot less draughty. A few uncomfortable minutes later, I finally made it onto the train, having walked the full length outside, instead of admitting defeat and transiting between carriages. I was now officially on board The Caledonian Sleeper.

It wasn’t much to look at from the corridor: this was one of the designated sleeper coaches, so all that was visible were the doors to each individual cabin. A guard stood at the door for ticket inspection: after punching a hole through my outbound ticket, he handed me a keycard and a complimentary bar of milk chocolate: by Mackie’s of Scotland, naturally. With my prize in hand, I walked to the back of the carriage, and swiped the card against the lock of the hindmost door, letting myself in.

This was my first time taking a sleeper train, and I was genuinely impressed by the room. A well made double bed took pride of place, but there was also a small desk at the window, laden with bottles of still and sparkling water, and the obligatory charging ports for my laptop and phone. I left my chocolate bar there, before heading to inspect the en-suite bathroom: complete with hot towels, a sink and toiletries, including a toothbrush and paste, which many hotels these days often forgot about. There was even a shower, though I wasn’t planning on partaking; god only knew what a bumpy experience that would be, going at over a hundred miles an hour.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

All told, the amenities were on par with any three star hotel in London; smaller than most, perhaps, but altogether impressive considering we were in fact on a train. All of this, for the cost of 425 pounds sterling. There were cheaper options, of course, such as the classic cabin under three hundred pounds, or even a simple reclining seat, for a mere 55 pounds, but I was travelling for business, so naturally I paid for the best. I’d be reimbursed in full, after all.

Now comfortable, and quite a bit warmer, my suit jacket went into the built-in wardrobe, while I went out to get ready for dinner. There were three types of carriages on the train: the aforementioned sleeper carriage I occupied; the seated carriage, resembling standard short-haul trains; and the club car, my destination for the night. This was a proper dining carriage, with full waiter service and an extensive bar. It was only available to occupants of sleeper carriages; the poor seated passengers would have to make do with meals at their chairs. I, on the other hand, was looking forward to some proper Scottish cuisine before heading to bed, so off I went.

“Mind the gap between the train and the platform.”

The traditional warning played across the station speakers, followed by a sharp whistle, an indication that the train was about to get under way. That wasn’t an issue for me, as I crossed between carriages to reach the club car. I was the first one there, and claimed a table for myself, perusing the menu as the train began to move. An Edinburgh Gin was an easy choice of drink, to start off the night, while food required just a touch more thought. I’d already had a bit back in the lounge, so I eventually opted to skip a starter, instead diving straight into a plateful of haggis, neeps and tatties.

Haggis, for the uninitiated, is a massive meatball of lamb, beef and oats, flavoured with onions and spices, accompanied by turnips and mashed potatoes, a.k.a neeps and tatties. It was a savoury, filling meal, one that I eagerly tucked into, the stress of the day melting away with every bite and sip of wine. The service was fast and excellent, indeed the one slight damper on the dinnertime experience came when I attempted to look up a few ingredients on my phone, only to find a complete lack of service. Clearly, the phone towers didn’t reach this far, while the train’s wi-fi wouldn’t let me connect: annoying, but hardly uncommon on British railways, given that there were probably hundreds of passengers trying to do the same as me.

Even with that slight hiccup, I still had a thoroughly enjoyable meal, and was more than satisfied (and probably a little drunk) when I finally headed back to my room. I brushed my teeth, ignored the shower entirely, and tossed myself into bed, still in my shirt and trousers, for a good night’s sleep. My last memory of the night was of plugging my phone in to charge, finding the time to be nearly midnight, before I pulled up the covers and fell asleep, already anticipating the rural sights of Scotland to come.