Severn Valley Railway, Kidderminster to Bridgnorth
It might not have been the Orient Express, but the stranded passengers in the dining car could probably have done with Hercule Poirot to help solve the mystery, writes Carl Jones.
It might not have been the Orient Express, but the stranded passengers in the dining car could probably have done with Hercule Poirot to help solve the mystery,
.
There we were, sitting in the dining car alongside the platform at Bewdley, as the coffee and mints were cleared away, wondering about the cause for the lengthy delay.
Half an hour later, still at the station, we were standing on the other side of track, having got off to wait for another train which would rescue us for a return to our starting point, Bridgnorth.
We were told that mindless vandals had meddled with cables in a tunnel just down the line, and brought all the railway's services to a chaotic standstill.
Which was a pity. Because I was looking forward to that unique moment when a herd of elephants passed by the window as I tucked into my Sunday roast. Sadly, we never made it as far as the part of the line which goes through the West Midlands Safari Park.
Sunday lunch on the Severn Valley Railway has to go down as one of the most unusual dining experiences on offer in the county. There's something quirky, romantic and glamorous about dining on a steam train – whatever's on the menu, which explains why the SVR's Sunday lunch service is so popular.
We were on board to celebrate my mother, Audrey's, birthday, and had booked several weeks in advance. Thankfully, before our trip came to a rather premature end, we'd just about had time to finish our three-course lunch.
There are two steam-hauled Sunday lunch dining trains in service on the line. One sets off from Kidderminster, the other begins in Bridgnorth. The Severn Valley Limited, our service, seats around 160 people in authentic 1930s dining cars.
Apart from the modern-day window fittings, little has changed on these carriages, which ran on the British Rail network between 1957 and 1962.
Diners are seated on tables of two, or four, and served banquet-style by a well-drilled team operating in challenging confines.
Our starters arrived before we'd chugged out of Bridgnorth. Mine was a prawn cocktail which looked better than it tasted – the rather bland sauce seeped into the brown bread and left it a little soggy.
My mother loved the creamy mushroom soup, however, while my wife, Rachel, started with orange juice – perhaps having a premonition about the size of the main course to come?
There were three main course options on offer, and we had one of each. It was roast beef and Yorkshire pud for me, chicken breast fillet with chipolata sausage and stuffing for Rachel, and a nice-looking fillet of lightly poached salmon for mum.
There was nothing remotely medium or rare about the beef, but it was tender enough, there was plenty of it, and given that most of the clientele were a good 15 or 20 years older then me, no doubt just how they liked it.
My wife was presented with the largest chicken breast I've seen in many a month, cooked beautifully. The crispy, tasty roast potatoes were also a delight, but the vegetables – a choice of broccoli, cabbage, carrots and green beans – were a strange mix. The carrots melted in the mouth, but the beans and broccoli were, one suspects, rather more al dente than intended – again, given the diners' demographic.
Dessert was worth the wait. My mother and I were each treated to an attractive-looking cheeseboard, while Rachel loved her New York cheesecake, served with berries and cream.
And as tea, coffee and mints arrived, we were all agreed on one thing. No-one on this train had any excuse for going home hungry.
Waiting staff should remember, though, that in such a confined space, passengers can hear everything they say; and it's not particularly PC to moan about their colleagues.
They also need to bear in mind that, however busy they might be, not a hint of this chaos should be transmitted to the paying diners.
The full Sunday lunch package for the three of us, including "Freedom of the Line" tickets to come and go as we pleased on the SVR throughout the day, came to £120. That's £15 for each rail ticket, and £25 for lunch. Drinks with dinner (wine at £2.75 a glass, and a Diet Coke at £1.40) were extra.
The SVR's Sunday service is certainly no Venice-Simplon gourmet treat, but is a quirky talking point if you're looking to do something a little different with your Sunday roast for a special occasion. Various special Christmas menus are available.
Pity about the Bewdley affair . . . but you can't blame the SVR team for petty vandalism, the menace of modern-day society.
CONTACT
Severn Valley Railway Reservations: 01562 827232 or log onto www.svr.co.uk
SEVERN VALLEY LIMITED SUNDAY LUNCH MENU
STARTERS
Fruit juice, prawn cocktail or soup of the day
MAIN COURSE
Choice of two roasts – roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, or chicken breast fillet with chipolata sausage and sage & onion stuffing. Also available if booked in advance, are lightly poached salmon or a vegetarian choice. Main courses are served with a selection of vegetables and potatoes
DESSERTS
Choice of two desserts, or a cheeseboard, plus coffee and mints
SERVICE
Friendly, but a little chaotic and clumsy
ATMOSPHERE
A throwback to the golden age of steam
DISABLED FACILITIES
Unsurprisingly, a little tricky getting on and off the train. Platform access may also involve walking over a footbridge.