Enough has been said about the charms of travel by trains and many a traveller has waxed eloquently about the delights of journey through Europe by trains. Of course the imaginative mind immediately conjures up images of chance encounters, thrilling adventures and the like, well portrayed in several books and films. Mountain trains add an all new dimension to the experience of a traveller, one that seeks solitude and probably little adventure than to immerse oneself in the journey than the destination. In one such journey over destination preference, I planned on taking the little known “Train des Merveilles” from Nice to a mountain village called Tende in France.
If the heart asks me where I would want to be again, in a flutter I would answer – Chamonix. The vistas overlooking the Mt Blanc would release the floodgates of artistic excellence of even a pedestrian poet. Such is the grandeur of the Alps that as they traverse through the lengths of Austria and Switzerland and make their way into France, they seem to have run through their crests and troughs, but, just as the proverbial candle flame, they seem to have reserved their best for the last – in the hearts of Chamonix.