Nige Burton explains how his wondrous continental rail journeys always start with a trusty Eurostar trip from London’s St Pancras

I looked up at the destinations board abstractedly as I shouldered my way across the concourse of Paris’s Gare du Nord, a smirk of delight spreading across my countenance. Zurich, Cologne, Charleroi, Amsterdam… these were places that I used to think of – and I now really don’t know why – as only being feasibly reachable by flying.

In fact, flying had always been my transport of choice, even for a short hop from Manchester to London. I thought it was quicker. I’d never really had a fear of flying, but I also can’t say that I particularly enjoyed it either; it was always a means to an end, a necessary part of travel.

And then came the three dodgy flights, all in a row like so many spiteful buses, to shake my confidence in aeronautics for life. Having never really given it much heed aside from the boredom, I was suddenly and indubitably aware that hurtling through the sky at over 500 miles an hour six miles up, with nothing but a rinkydink aluminium tube, a seatbelt and a laminated safety card for protection, was no longer so de rigueur after all. Sure – the statistics tell us the chances of anything happening are slimmer than slim, and all the ancient Sages advise that ‘if it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go’, but – what if it’s the pilot’s time to go?

Travel to cities such as Maastricht is surprisingly easy by train, and affords a closer exploration of some of the hidden gems of Europe

Anyway, notwithstanding any of this, and from a pure enjoyment-of-the-journey point of view, I had taken the decision to explore alternatives, and thus found myself all aglow with exultation on the Parisienne terminus. In theory, I could get anywhere by train! Well, nearly anywhere. And it was a revelation.

I have since come to call this little adventure my Pan European Odyssey: in short, my exploration of no less than eight European cities – each in a different country – over a two-and-a-half-week period. I had plenty of time in each one, beginning my adventure in London, from where I gained Paris, Zurich, Vienna, Budapest, Bucharest, Bratislava and finally Munich before returning to the United Kingdom.

Chill in laid back Leuven, Belgium’s oldest university seat

All this was undertaken on trains various, each leg revelling in the ever-changing landscape incumbent upon it to be presented with mawkish pride; arriving in the stately Austrian capital with its fine architecture and grandeur; watching the Hungarian countryside melt into the deep blue of the night before settling down in my compact but comfortable sleeper car; slowly sipping a glass of wine whilst dining on the rolling stage of a sunset behind the Transylvanian Alps – all these exquisite moments sparkle in the memory of this behemoth expedition. There was something very special indeed about looking out of window and seeing more than a carpet of clouds whilst holding my breath at every bump or thump, despite the fact that most all of these sounds are perfectly ‘normal’. On a train, I don’t have to look at the flight attendant’s face to see how ‘normal’ the sound was to them; on my dodgy flights, I realised that fear is pretty much fear, and can stare out of the most well-trained and professional visage just as much as the meagre passenger one.

It was at this point I made my decision that, wherever possible, I was going to travel without wings. So many exciting destinations were available to me without my once having to set foot inside an airport terminal – I would just have to plan things a little more carefully.

Time is undoubtedly the biggest single factor you need on your side if you’re going to adopt a similar principle, and it certainly helps that my working life allows me the freedom to operate from most anywhere on the planet. But I still have cats to feed at home, and whilst friends and family will step into the breach and dish out a regular daily bowl of kibbles, for Irma and Gomez that’s no substitute for the first hand company of their Dad. And so I set about experimenting with places and time-scales that would not present a too chronologically challenging undertaking to the vast majority of holidayers who are subject to the vagaries of a more restricted working practice – the 96% of the working population of Great Britain.

The Hague is one of Holland’s best kept secrets and makes for a superb romantic retreat by train

I have since, apart from my eight country extravaganza, taken many wonderful jaunts by train, including a beach holiday in Menorca by rail and ferry. The total trip was completed in exactly two weeks, although just one week was spent on the island. The trick here is to make the journey as much a part of the experience as the destination itself; there was a great satisfaction in hurtling through a vista that slowly, but very perceptibly, changed from the bustling skyline of metropolitan Paris through to the lush, verdant pastures of southern France, and on into the drier, equally impressive Spanish plains. And sailing into Mao harbour at a little before eight on a sunny September Saturday morning is nothing short of sublime, and without a single butterfly in my stomach save for those more welcome ones anticipating the excitement of the week to come. I have also explored those cities which most of us hear of but would never dream of visiting, and I’d surely have been a lesser person without the experiences; the romance of The Hague, the ancient charm of Leuven or the majestic beauty of Maastricht to name but a handful. Oh, and for a true summer break without even the need for a ferry, I became deliciously acquainted with the lazy, hazy, long-shadowed, sun-baked walled city of Avignon; now there is a little corner of perfection.

But, residing on one of our great British islands still seems to present a barrier to some fellow journeymen, psychologically informing thoughts which in turn entertain the notion that one must fly to escape to climes more exotic and meaningful. To these uninitiated creatures, I utter one word of encouragement and hope: Eurostar. That magical conveyance has whisked me tout de suit to either Lille, Paris or Brussels on so many occasions now that I have genuinely lost count. And it is from these three wonderful cities – all worthy of thorough and regular exploration in themselves – that so much more adventure beckons.

Avignon proves that a sun-baked summer holiday doesn’t need a coastline and can still be easily reached from the UK by train

Services are quick and easily undertaken, with journey times shorter than those of many domestic rail trips, Lille being a mere hour and twenty minutes from London’s state-of-the-art international hub of St Pancras, and Paris a very little over two hours away. With eleven daily services from Brussels Midi to St Pancras, and journey times often as swift as a minute over two hours for fares from €88 return, flying seems to make less and less sense. Onward travel is a divine piece of cake, with connections and timetables making planning pretty much as easy as any UK rail journey, allowing the intrepid sojourner a freedom only bound by the limits of his own imagination. But for me, one of the true great advantages of travelling by Eurostar in particular is the generous baggage allowance; each passenger can take on board two suitcases and a single item of hand luggage – after the limitations imposed by airlines, this is extremely liberating.

So, as I plot my next expedition with an eagerness that can be known only to those who have already joined the fold, those fortunate individuals who know that flying is not the only passport to foreign adventure, I oftentimes prepare to simply stick the proverbial pin in the map. I think of the true promise of adventure, and I feel the words building inside me. I can’t stop them, or tell you why I say them, but as I trace imaginary lines across the page, entertaining thoughts of wonder and bliss, these words come to me in a whisper; I say them as prayer, as thanks, as praise; I say… Eurostar… Eurostar…

Tickets are available from eurostar.com or 08432 186 186.

Main image courtesy of Eurostar

Article images by Nige Burton

If you visited and fell in love with Prague, try sampling the delights of Bratislava, capital of the other half of what was once a single Soviet country…

The romance of Prague, the Czech Republic’s proud capital city, is legend. But not too many years ago, this former Soviet country was as intrinsically linked to its equally communist stable mate Slovakia as Rolls is to Royce. The resulting name of Czechoslovakia was the stuff of spy novels, conjuring up images of Cold War intrigue, espionage and shady goings on in black Volgas. It was also, of course, home to one of the most iconic Eastern Bloc cars of all time, the humble, rear-engined Skoda. The region became a sovereign state of Central Europe from 1918, when it declared its independence from the Austro-Hungarian empire. However, during the six years of the Second World War after its forced division and partial incorporation into Nazi Germany, the state did not exist in reality, save for a government-in-exile operating from London. Czechoslovakia’s final and peaceful dissolution came about on January 1st, 1993, when it separated into the Czech Republic and Slovakia.

Less popular than its majestically lauded twin Prague, with its stunningly impressive skyline of domes and spires, Slovakia’s capital, Bratislava, none-the-less has much to offer those wishing to explore the slightly lesser travelled roads of Europe.

Compelling and beautiful in its own right, this splendid city effortlessly combines old with new, communism with democracy and grandeur with everyday ease. English is freely spoken, making the plethora of cafés, restaurants and bars a joy to patronise, affording this delightfully quirky metropolis a charm which sets it apart from its European contemporaries.

There is also a vast choice of accommodation on offer, ranging from luxury hotels to more modest – and more affordable – smaller hotels and guest houses. Don’t just book on price however, as you really do tend to get what you pay for and may end up a little shocked at what is considered ok at the far end of low budget. If you wanted something a little different without paying a fortune, the Hotel Kyjev, a fabulously retro tower block of comecon kitsch complete with a Trabi police car in the ominously but marvellously dark foyer, was brilliant. It does, however, remain to be seen what it will be like following its closure for refurbishment at the end of October, 2011. One can only hope not all of its socially historic character will have been lost forever. There is even talk of it being demolished completely, which would be very sad, as we really need to preserve these treasures for future generations, even if they don’t hark back to what could be considered our finest hours.

Bratislava is well served by a cheap and reliable public transport network, in particular its frequent tram services running the length and breadth of the city and, as always, this is a great way to explore the sights and sounds. Not to be missed is the imposing Bratislava Castle, located on a hill that has been populated as early as in the Stone Age. It houses the exhibition of the Slovak National Museum as well as serving as a state function venue.

St Martin’s Cathedral is also well worth a visit. Consecrated in 1452, this three-nave Gothic dome was built in the place of an older Romanesque church. As Bratislava became the capital of the Hungarian Kingdom in the 16th century, the Cathedral was the coronation place for Hungarian Emperors, 11 Hungarian Kings and 8 Queens having been crowned here between 1563 and 1830. This impressive edifice sports a metre high copy of the Hungarian royal crown weighing some 300 kilograms on its tower, while inside you’ll find an 18th century statue of St Martin and the Beggar, by the famous Baroque sculptor Raphael Donner.

Medieval Bratislava was entered through one of four gates, the only surviving one being the 50 plus metre high Michael’s Gate, the watchtower of the original fortification. Originally built in the early 14th century, and rebuilt many times since, it now houses a collection of medieval arms and town fortifications from the Municipal Museum, as well as affording one a stunning view of the city.

The famous Academia Istropolitana was the very first university in the territory of present day Slovakia. Founded by King Mathias Corvinus in 1465, this historical monument now houses the Academy of Fine Arts, and will please those history buffs looking for something a little askant from the usual fare.

The impressively Rococo Grassalkovich Palace, built as the summer residence of Count Grassalkovich in the 1700s, was a centre of the Hungarian aristocracy social life and was also visited by the Empress Maria Theresa. Demoted to use as an activity center for Bratislava schoolchildren in the communist era the palace was reconstructed in the mid-1990s, and became the seat of the Slovak Republic’s president. Its garden is now a public park, and makes for an extremely pleasant afternoon stroll.

The Old Town Hall is also well worth a look. Complete with clock tower and romantic courtyard sporting Renaissance arcades, it is one of the most appealing historical buildings of the capital. The whole consists of myriad constructions build over various stylistic periods and its main purpose today is to house the City Museum, with its eclectic collection fascinatingly documenting Bratislava’s rich history.

Thespian aficionados will love the Slovak National Theatre, situated in the beautifully restored Hviezdoslavovo Square. This historical building is a jewel of Neo-Renaissance architecture, built by Viennese architects Fellner and Helmer in the mid 1880s, and replaced the original theatre. Take special note of the Ganymede’s fountain out front, and then marvel at the beautiful interiors.

The Jewish community has always played an important role in Bratislavan life and, although the historical Jewish quarter near the castle was destroyed, the most significant Jewish funerary shrine and place of religious worship still can be found in the Castle Hill. Chatam Sofer Memorial is a preserved part of the original Jewish Cemetery, with graves including that of the famous rabbi Chatam Sofer, arguably the most important figure in the history of Jews in Bratislava.

Curiously, one of the biggest attractions for visitors to the city in recent times is the presence of four life size bronze statues hidden in the streets of the Old Town. Cumil – The Peeper, can be found on the corner of Panska and Rybarska brana streets, a French Napoleonic Soldier sits quietly on a bench on the Hlavne namestie (Main Square), a Paparazzi lurks capriciously on the corner of Laurinska and Radnicna streets, and the renowned colourful local character Schöner Náci, still doffs his hat to passersby on Rybarska brana street, by Kaffee Mayer.

It is surely these iconic sculptures, in all their splendiferous glory, that sum up this multi-faceted cityscape’s celebrated diversity, truly setting it apart in an increasingly uniform Europe.