There are faster and more affordable ways to travel from Venice to Paris, but most involve budget airlines, plastic cutlery, and zero atmosphere, and none are quite like the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express, a Belmond train (VSOE). The classic train is a jaw-dropper from the moment it arrives at the platform. Believe me, I would know. I’ve spent the past decade snapping photos of the vintage beauty every time I pass through Venice’s Santa Lucia Station. It never gets old.
This time, though, I wasn’t a bystander. I was a guest on what many call a dream trip, a rail journey from Venice to Paris, with an embarkation stop in Rome. I’ve fantasized about this trip ever since I saw the 1959 Marilyn Monroe film, Some Like It Hot (a comedy that involves disguises and jumping on a train bound for Florida), and Sidney Lumet’s 1974 Murder on the Orient Express.
Belmond sets the journey in motion before you even reach the platform. At 6:30 a.m. on the day of our departure, a Belmond staff member met my husband and I in the lobby of Hotel Flora, accommodations we arranged on our own as a prelude to our 1930s-era travel experience. (Belmond offers to book passengers into its luxury properties, but it’s not a requirement of the rail experience.)
The 30-room, family-run hotel is a five-minute walk from St. Mark’s Square and is a time capsule of old Venice with Murano chandeliers, frescoed ceilings, and turn-of-the-century furniture. From the hotel, in Venice’s San Marco neighborhood on the beautiful Calle XXII Marzo, a Belmond representative whisked us across the lagoon by water taxi to Santa Lucia Station.
We waited on the platform for that magic, cinematic moment: the rising steam as the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express train rolled in. The lead engine was an Italian FS E.403, a workhorse locomotive dating back to Italy’s early 2000s, pulling 16 gold-trimmed, midnight-blue carriages. This is a heartwarming Belmond detail—that in each country, a restored local locomotive takes the lead.
Stepping aboard was instant time travel. The wood paneling and shiny brass details glowed incandescent. The carriages are narrower and more compact than modern ones. “They were built when people were shorter,” laughed Mathieu Ollier, the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express’s onboard quality manager. “Everything has been kept to its original design.”
Paying tribute to original design and details is what the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express does best. The train’s 16 carriages were built between 1926 and 1949 by Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits, a Belgian-founded French company that defined the golden age of rail travel by setting a new standard for opulence on the rails. The carriages were eventually recommissioned during World War II as hospitals and even a floating hotel and then forgotten in rail yards. In the late 1970s, American entrepreneur James B. Sherwood hunted them down and restored each to its art deco glory. By 1982, the impeccably refurbished Venice Simplon-Orient-Express was back on the rails.
Today, the train’s interiors are regularly maintained by master craftspeople across Europe. For more than 40 years, the Allemand family workshop in Issoire, France, has painted the VSOE’s elaborate woodwork in each cabin. Fifteen types of rare materials are used in the production.
Ollier pointed out the original coal furnaces, still hand-fed to heat each carriage. The staff uniforms—double-button jackets, waistcoats, and peaked caps in a shade almost midnight blue—mirror those of the 1930s, as does the quintessential white-glove service (minus actual white gloves), a living tribute to an age when train travel was more often elegant.
Every cabin is assigned a steward to attend to guests throughout their journey, summoned at the press of a call button, and passengers traveling in Grand Suites enjoy a private butler dedicated solely to their suite.
All aboard the VSOE
The train’s livery (a proprietary midnight blue with a white roof and brass lettering) was the vision of American entrepreneur James Sherwood. The original 19th-century Orient Express had gray roofs, but Sherwood wanted to create a more striking color scheme to make the train instantly recognizable across Europe.
Photos by Enrico Costantini
Traveling on the Belmond train is a full sensory experience. The first thing you notice is the rhythm and sway of the train, more exaggerated than today’s newer generation of trains, then the sound, a percussive clickety-clack. The VSOE travels at an average speed of 68.5 miles per hour, far slower than the fastest of Italy’s fleet of high-speed trains, which can reach 186 miles per hour.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, some in 1930s flair (think people in three-piece suits with tails and top hats, and silk dresses adorned with feathery boas). It was gorgeous, and I caught myself saying period phrases like “This is the bee’s knees.”
Over the course of the 30-hour journey (which in our case stretched to 40 glorious hours, thanks to rail works and rerouting), there’s blissfully nothing specific to do on the train, nowhere to rush off to, and no need to worry about when you’re arriving—and that’s exactly the point. To paraphrase Emerson, it’s all about the journey, not the destination. Cabins are without televisions, as the landscapes and ambience serve as entertainment.
Time is spent hanging out, meeting fellow passengers—who, in our case, seemed like a cast of Fitzgerald characters, including an award-winning audiobook narrator, two plastics magnates from the Caribbean, an L.A. TV producer, and a multigenerational French family—and relaxing in different areas of the train, from the cabins to the dining carriages and the bar car.
We indulged in French-inspired meals in all three vintage dining carriages: the elegant L’Oriental (1927), which gleams with black lacquered panels; the Étoile du Nord (1926), with its intricate marquetry (decorative woodwork); and my favorite, the art deco masterpiece Côte d’Azur (1926), with blue panels and original crystal decorations created by French jeweler René Lalique.
Lunch and dinner menus change seasonally. I enjoyed the breakfast served in the dining car, a lovely smoked salmon. One morning in our suite, we had a breakfast of poached eggs and great French bread with butter, a less formal experience. Evening meals began with Petrossian caviar and blinis, followed by four courses devised by chef Jean Imbert. Dinners were my favorite, specifically a lobster entrée that, like all the other meals, was prepared with delicious ingredients executed with French precision.
All meals are served on fine china with French silverware and heavy crystal glassware.
After dinner, we lingered over champagne cocktails and joined sing-alongs in the velvety Bar Car 3674. The VSOE serves more than 6,000 bottles of Veuve Clicquot annually, and the complimentary wine list includes 15 champagnes and sparkling wines.
After the merriment, we retreated to our suite, named Les Montagnes, a restored sleeper cabin with a double bed, a sofa, and an en suite shower. (Unlike the suites, standard cabins remain true to the 1930s setup, with upper and lower bunks, a washbasin, and a shared bathroom down the corridor.)
The train has three levels of sleeping quarters: historic cabins, suites, and Grand Suites named after European cities: Paris, Venice, Istanbul, Vienna, Prague, and Budapest. Grand Suite guests will find personalized bathrobes at their disposal and a button to buzz for champagne.
Up to 16 carriages roll the rails, occasionally also including the rare L’Observatoire, a vintage car reimagined by artist JR. The entire car has been transformed into a private suite with a bedroom, a library, a lounge, and circular skylights, and it’s available only by special request. On our trip, it stayed behind.
The throwback train journey begins with a Belmond-provided water taxi ride in Venice from your accommodations to the train station to await the cinematic arrival of the vintage carriages.
Courtesy of Anna T/Unsplash
The train route
Our Venice Simplon-Orient-Express train was scheduled to travel from Venice to Verona and Rome, then to Chiasso in Switzerland, and finally to Paris. Due to the unpredictability of traveling on secondary tracks—there were construction delays and various congestion and train traffic issues, and other trains with tighter schedules were prioritized over ours—our trip stretched to 40 hours, giving us a more in-depth tour of the Italian landscape.
Other VSOE routes crisscross Europe, visiting Amsterdam, Brussels, Geneva, Prague, Istanbul, and Florence. As of spring 2026, a new three-night route connects Paris to Italy’s Amalfi Coast, with overnights in hotels such as the Caruso, a Belmond Hotel, in Ravello, along with one night spent on board the train.
We departed as the sun rose across the Venetian lagoon and slowly headed south along the Adriatic coast to the quiet beaches of Le Marche, before veering inland across the rolling green hills of Umbria. We made our way through Lazio to Roma Ostiense, one of Rome’s secondary stations and a formal stop on our itinerary. At the station (and at every station), we’d see the same phenomenon occur each time: people smiling and waving on the platform, taking photos of our gorgeous train. From Rome, we headed north to Pisa for an unexpected full stop as conductors sorted out our new route. No one cared; we were singing Frank Sinatra tunes in the bar.
We slept through the starts and stops and woke up in Chiasso several hours later than expected. From there we crossed into the Alpine valleys of Switzerland, before skirting through Strasbourg. More delays were announced, and Belmond responded by seating us for a bonus dinner. By the time we arrived at Paris’s Gare d’Austerlitz, it was pitch black, nearly midnight. I felt as if I had been on the train for days, not 40 hours, and I welcomed the extra time in a bygone era.
For the Venice–Paris or Rome–Paris trip, there are no ground excursions or added experiences. You do not get off the train unless you really have to. On my trip, two couples got off the train early: One disembarked in Rome due to a nasty flu, and another left in Basel, Switzerland, after the extended delay, deciding that home was calling sooner. The rest of us were happy for the extra hours.
The cabin stewards’ iconic navy-and-gold uniforms were originally designed by Balenciaga in the early 1980s; the dining team’s attire comes from the French fashion house Patou. All uniforms are produced in Italy, and the cabin stewards’ blue is a custom color, requiring more than 200 meters of specially dyed fabric for each production run.
Photos by Enrico Costantini
How to pack and what to wear
The Venice Simplon-Orient-Express is part rolling gala, part fashion show, so if you like the idea of getting dressed up, this experience is for you. You don’t need to pack much—just pack smart. The dress code enhances the train’s theatrical atmosphere: Smart attire is requested throughout the day, with no jeans, shorts, or tennis shoes permitted. Black tie is encouraged for dinner, and many passengers embrace the opportunity to dress for the occasion. Our trip was a catwalk of silks, sequins, boas, stilettos, velvet loafers, and black ties. Evening wear ranged from black-on-black suits à la John Wick to full-length backless gowns worthy of Marlene Dietrich and white Casablanca-inspired tuxes. My favorite was the gentleman in the authentic 1930s silk top hat and tails.
Packing is less of an art and more of the adage “Less is more,” and Belmond provides precise instructions on the luggage limit and the dress code. For a two-day trip, pack an overnight or weekend soft bag. We brought Away weekender bags and one garment bag, which was enough for three pairs of shoes, one suit, one cocktail dress, and two changes of daytime clothes, plus toiletries.
Don’t worry too much if you forget anything. Paris-based perfumer Officine Universelle Buly, originally founded in 1803, provides amenities, and items such as shaving kits and silk eye masks are available on request. Bow ties and even cuff links can be provided to travelers for a finishing touch.
A fond farewell
Belmond will happily bookend your journey with stays at its hotels in Venice and Paris, but we chose Hotel Castille, a hidden gem near Place Vendôme in Paris, a mix of Italian hospitality and Parisian style, kind of like the train. It was the perfect postscript to the journey, especially since it’s only a short walk to the Musée d’Orsay, Paris’s Victor Laloux–designed train station turned art museum. After 40 hours aboard the world’s most beautiful train, of course I ended up in another station.
This article was originally published in November 2025 and updated May 8, 2026. Lucy Kehoe contributed to reporting.
