Princely Tracks
The royal families travelled in style - it came
naturally to them. Which is
why their saloons were so luxurious. They were woodpanelled, had separate bedrooms, dining rooms, libraries, lounges, and formal drawing rooms. They had changing rooms and luxurious bathrooms. Attendants travelled in separate coaches and catered to their every
choice: whether meals, or services.
In their private saloons, the maharajas did not just merely travel but also entertain: their guests on board could include their zenana, the viceroy or even the visiting king-emperor of Britain and his territories.
The meals could include a choice of Continental, or Indian, or even specific, individual requirements. Chandeliers glittered overhead, they relaxed on chaise longues, or occupied capacious sofas. The meals were served by servants dressed in full livery.
It was in this style that they journeyed to Calcutta to dine with the viceroy, or to other princely states to attend weddings, or escor-ted their guests to their hunting lodges for a spot of shooting.
When the country became independent, these luxurious saloons were abandoned, standing under sheds at various platforms, unattended and ignored. The princes were no more, and when they travelled, it was as ordinary citizens.
Fortunately, some of these saloons were saved with the germination of an idea that launched one of the ten best railway journeys in the world: the Palace on Wheels. Mooted as an idea, it was able to collect the best of the rolling stock, taking carriages used by the maharajas of Bikaner and Jodhpur, of Jaipur. and Udaipur. Together, they became the basis of the romantic, royal journey that attempted to recreate, once more, the grandeur of the past.
Because it was not a single train, each coach was different, as were the trappings. This lent it a quaint charm, and visitors could be seen leaping from their coaches (the train could not be vestibuled since the carriages were old) at stations at night, to go into different carriages and spend time there, experiencing their regal, but romantic aura. The meals came from an attached dining car, and were served in a restaurant on wheels. There was a charming library and bar. And attendants in full regalia stayed up odd hours and times to be able to serve passengers on the royal yatra late into the night, and from very early in the morning. The train began its week-long tour of Rajasthan from Delhi, and ended it in the capital too. Passengers could take the entire tour, or any part of it. By night, they gathered in the train to rest, relax, make new friends, converse, dine and sleep. And every morning the train would arrive at a new destination, a new princely city, to a new welcome, a new regal ambience, but a fittingly royal experience.
Because these carriages were old, it was felt that they could not continue indefinitely, but the package had been so popular that pulling it out was simply not an answer. Instead, a new train was recreated in the same flavour, though it now had inbuilt advantages such as vestibuling and airconditioning. In all other ways, it was a faithful copy of the original. Carpeted corridors, a comfortable lounge and a more spacious dining room added to its amenities. It proved such a good copy that most visitors could not make out that it was, in fact, not the original Palace on Wheels.
By now, of course, other things were changing. Though the new train had been developed on the original metre gauge tracks, most inter-city tracks had been changed to broad gauge. It was clearly time to phase out the new Palace on Wheels. But it was a smart product: instead of wasting it, the Ministry of Railways decided to use it on a different route, and so The Royal Orient was created, a journey that begins from Delhi, includes a bit of Rajasthan, but spends much of its time chugging through the neighbouring state of Gujarat.
But, clearly, it was time for a still newer Palace on Wheels.



In their private saloons, the maharajas did not just merely travel but also entertain: their guests on board could include their zenana, the viceroy or even the visiting king-emperor of Britain and his territories.
The meals could include a choice of Continental, or Indian, or even specific, individual requirements. Chandeliers glittered overhead, they relaxed on chaise longues, or occupied capacious sofas. The meals were served by servants dressed in full livery.
It was in this style that they journeyed to Calcutta to dine with the viceroy, or to other princely states to attend weddings, or escor-ted their guests to their hunting lodges for a spot of shooting.
When the country became independent, these luxurious saloons were abandoned, standing under sheds at various platforms, unattended and ignored. The princes were no more, and when they travelled, it was as ordinary citizens.
Fortunately, some of these saloons were saved with the germination of an idea that launched one of the ten best railway journeys in the world: the Palace on Wheels. Mooted as an idea, it was able to collect the best of the rolling stock, taking carriages used by the maharajas of Bikaner and Jodhpur, of Jaipur. and Udaipur. Together, they became the basis of the romantic, royal journey that attempted to recreate, once more, the grandeur of the past.
Because it was not a single train, each coach was different, as were the trappings. This lent it a quaint charm, and visitors could be seen leaping from their coaches (the train could not be vestibuled since the carriages were old) at stations at night, to go into different carriages and spend time there, experiencing their regal, but romantic aura. The meals came from an attached dining car, and were served in a restaurant on wheels. There was a charming library and bar. And attendants in full regalia stayed up odd hours and times to be able to serve passengers on the royal yatra late into the night, and from very early in the morning. The train began its week-long tour of Rajasthan from Delhi, and ended it in the capital too. Passengers could take the entire tour, or any part of it. By night, they gathered in the train to rest, relax, make new friends, converse, dine and sleep. And every morning the train would arrive at a new destination, a new princely city, to a new welcome, a new regal ambience, but a fittingly royal experience.
Because these carriages were old, it was felt that they could not continue indefinitely, but the package had been so popular that pulling it out was simply not an answer. Instead, a new train was recreated in the same flavour, though it now had inbuilt advantages such as vestibuling and airconditioning. In all other ways, it was a faithful copy of the original. Carpeted corridors, a comfortable lounge and a more spacious dining room added to its amenities. It proved such a good copy that most visitors could not make out that it was, in fact, not the original Palace on Wheels.
By now, of course, other things were changing. Though the new train had been developed on the original metre gauge tracks, most inter-city tracks had been changed to broad gauge. It was clearly time to phase out the new Palace on Wheels. But it was a smart product: instead of wasting it, the Ministry of Railways decided to use it on a different route, and so The Royal Orient was created, a journey that begins from Delhi, includes a bit of Rajasthan, but spends much of its time chugging through the neighbouring state of Gujarat.
But, clearly, it was time for a still newer Palace on Wheels.
