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We boarded Southeast Asia’s most opulent sleeper train

A luxury sleeper train through the tropics of Southeast Asia captures the romance of rail and a new view on travel. This is life onboard the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia.

For many, train travel conjures romantic sojourns, late-night revelry and old-world glamour. Yet while boarding a bells-and-whistles sleeper train in the tropics is steeped in nostalgia, modern rail travel is proving to be far more than a relic of the 20th century.

Although interest in rail travel waned two decades ago in favour of speed, efficiency and a focus on the destination, its resurgence speaks to how we travel today: slower and more purposefully, eschewing tangible luxuries in favour of connection and ways to immerse ourselves deeper, culturally and geographically. Few experiences capture this shift quite like the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia, making a compelling case for taking the scenic route. Here’s what to expect onboard.

Boarding the train

the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia
The sleeper is detailed with touches of gold. (Credit: Ludovic Balay)

Our 1750-kilometre journey begins in Singapore, where we’re ferried from our hotel to a private check-in at Woodlands Station. We are escorted through a station closed to the public, passing through immigration and customs, before being met with jewel-toned orchids by our butler, Navein Prakaash Jayaraman.

From the Presidential Cabin, the city limits of Singapore quickly slip away as we cross the causeway – opened in 1924 to link Singapore to the Malay Peninsula – into Johor Bahru, settling into a new tempo.

The design of the Eastern & Oriental Express

dining aboard the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia
Glamorous old-world dining aboard the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia. (Credit: Ludovic Balay)

Inside the train, each carriage is clad in hand-cut marquetry – elm burr, cherrywood and teak – layered with oriental silks and embroidery. The Dior Spa is enveloped in the iconic emerald Toile de Jouy motif, while the dining cars, Malaya and Adisorn, pay homage to the passing landscape in coral, green and gold batik. It’s been more than 30 years since the Eastern & Oriental Express made its inaugural journey from Bangkok to Singapore, becoming the first luxury locomotive to complete the 1943-kilometre journey.

the Dior Spa with Toile de Jouy motif
The Dior Spa is dressed in the brand’s emblematic Toile de Jouy motif. (Credit: Pierre Mouton)

The train – a 1970s sleeper – was sourced from Japan by James B. Sherwood, the founder of Belmond (then Orient-Express Hotels), after it was retired from service as the Silver Star in New Zealand/Aotearoa. After a complete remodel, it now houses 32 suites and cabins alongside two restaurant cars, the Piano Bar, the Dior Spa and the open-air Observation Car.

the Observation Car, Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia
The Observation Car gives front-row seats to the lush scenery. (Credit: Ludovic Balay)

The train rocks and tilts along tracks first laid in 1885 to connect a matrix of tin mines and palm plantations across the Malay Peninsula, feeding one of the busiest maritime routes on Earth. Gold, spices and silk were exchanged in bustling ports by merchants from China, India, the Middle East and eventually Europe.

Wild Malaysia itinerary highlights

The Wild Malaysia journey (running from March to October) is a three-night affair that weaves north through emerald-green palm plantations to Taman Negara National Park, before skirting the west coast through Gemas and Ipoh to Penang, then zipping back to Singapore. Each day, guests are invited off the train to seek discovery and presence in contrasting landscapes.

Taman Negara National Park

Eastern & Oriental Express carriage at Merapoh Station on the Malay Peninsula
Pulling in to tropical Merapoh Station on the Malay Peninsula. (Credit: Ludovic Balay)

The train slows to a halt at Merapoh Station, where mist clings to the nearby limestone cliffs. Here, a small number of villagers gather, bent over gendang ketawa (or laughing drums), while others move in a steady rhythm in silat, a traditional martial art.

serene jungle trails
Stretch your legs on serene jungle trails. (Credit: Richard James Taylor)

While some set out to explore caves and ancient stalactites, others take to jungle trails by e-bike. We opt to set off on foot with wildlife photographer and conservationist Sanjitpaal Singh for a slow-paced wander through the jungle.

The short drive past endless rubber and palm oil plantations is striking. In the 1960s and ’70s, swathes of land were cleared to bolster exports. Decades on, the commodities-first mindset has encroached further into wild spaces. In some parts, quarries and plantations straddle the foothills of the rainforest.

Taman Negara National Park's jungle scenery
Lush jungle awaits you at nearly every twist and turn. (Credit: Amber Hunter)

But the 130-million-year-old rainforest within Taman Negara National Park is protected and remains largely untamed. “It’s seven times larger than Singapore," Sanjit tells us as we descend into the lowland forest. Elephant dung lines the roadside. Tualang and jelutong trees rise on either side with canopies lost high above. “If you don’t see any large mammals, rest assured, they are happy, somewhere in there."

He means the clouded leopard, the Malayan sun bear, the Asian elephant and the elusive tiger. Two decades ago, this western corridor held the highest density of Malayan tigers, but habitat loss and poaching have pushed them so deep into the interior that sightings now border on myth. The mere chance of an encounter is enticing enough for us.

helmeted hornbill resting on a branch
Spot exotic wildlife such as the helmeted hornbill.

We continue on foot down an unmarked, overgrown pathway that feels cool and damp. We crouch beside a trail of ants and flowering orchids clinging to tree trunks. The jungle reverberates with chanting gibbons and birdsong. We spend the morning scanning the canopy for helmeted hornbills, which Sanjit has spent the last two decades documenting. We eventually emerge to overlook Mount Tahan, the region’s highest peak, while snacking on akok pancakes and sweet black coffee.

George Town

By morning, we’re arriving on the west coast to Butterworth Station. Penang Island is a short ferry ride away, where the boat docks in the heart of George Town as the humidity settles. Here, rambutan-red rickshaws festooned with flowers and flags, alongside a fleet of Vespas, await to meander through the city. The UNESCO-listed George Town still bears the imprint of 500 years of trading and cultural exchange, etched into the peeling shophouse facades, butter-yellow houses and ornate temples. In the 18th and 19th centuries, when Chinese migrants settled here among Malay communities, Peranakan culture emerged from a collision of languages, architecture and food.

At Chowrasta Market, stalls overflow with mangoes and giant durians, fresh-caught seafood, mounds of spices and flowers strung into long ceremonial garlands. A woman ladles sour asam laksa while others stack lemongrass and bananas on the roadside. At Eythrope, a 1920s colonial villa perched on Penang Hill, we trade the bustle for a languid rhythm with a cooking class exploring Indian and Peranakan fare. By the time lunch is served – fragrant pani puri morsels and nasi ulam rice salad – Kedah Peak and the Titiwangsa Mountains have emerged from the haze.

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Onboard delights

the bar cart onboard the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia
Imbibe old-fashioned tipples. (Credit: Amber Hunter)

Back onboard, we idle on the observation deck, stretching over lakes and passing rural villages bathed in wood smoke, towards Ipoh. After a brief interlude through the buzzing town, we rejoin the train. We spend the evening lingering over another long, indulgent feast by André Chiang, who’s celebrated for his amalgam of cuisines – Laksa Bouillabaisse and Penang duck curry with muscat grapes. Menus are inspired by the route; expect multi-course regional interpretations such as shrimp and clam miso bisque, mapo tofu spring roll, wagyu beef sukiyaki and seafood laksa.

inside the Eastern & Oriental Express
Rich fabrics are complemented by elm, cherrywood and teak marquetry. (Credit: Ludovic Balay)

Post-dinner, we join convivial guests swaying to live jazz in the Piano Bar. The late-night rendezvous is a blur of glitzy dresses, dinner jackets and old-fashioned tipples. That night, we’re lulled to sleep by the rumbling and rattling of the diesel train as we pass Kuala Lumpur.

In decades past, opulence defined such a journey. However, the new era of travel favours something intangible – time, presence and the luxury it affords in the haste of modern life.

Where does the Eastern & Oriental Express start?

the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia
Taking the scenic route.

The Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia operates between Singapore and Malaysia, departing from Woodlands Station. Guests fly into Singapore Changi Airport and are transferred directly to the station for private check-in and boarding.

Itinerary details

the cabin interior of the Eastern & Oriental Express, A Belmond Train, Southeast Asia
Be rocked to sleep in cloud-like beds. (Credit: Ludovic Balay)

The three-night Wild Malaysia route runs from March to October, with limited departures per month and cabins starting from AU$7297. The journey includes off-train excursions into Taman Negara National Park and George Town in Penang, as well as a short stop in the former tin-mining capital of Ipoh. Onboard, don’t miss the Dior Spa for a late-night, high-performance Kobi-Dior facial.

For longer experiences, opt for the unique six-night Tiger Express route – a deep dive into conservation efforts protecting the Malayan tiger, which includes a visit to scenic Langkawi.

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These community homestays are changing how travellers experience Nepal

    After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers? 

    In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.  

    Tharu dance
    Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?  

    Nepal gray langur
    Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?  

    How tourism is changing in Nepal

    Bardiya National Park
    Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.  

    Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.  

    “Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.   

    Local men in Bhada village
    Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”  

    Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.” 

    CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.  

    A new generation demanding more

    Dalla Town Hall
    Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”  

    We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”  

    Boudha Stupa's prayer wheels
    Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you… 

    bouda stupa prayer flags
    Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.  

    Boudha Stupa vendors
    Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.  

    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi
    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.  

    Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.  

    Life unfiltered in the Terai region

    tharu woman
    Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.  

    Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.  

    safari through Bardiya National Park
    Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.  

    Marigolds
    Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    “The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.  

    On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.  

    community homestay entrance
    A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.  

    The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.  

    In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.  

    food at community homestay
    Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.  

    The power of community homestays 

    community homestay owners in Nepal
    Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.  

    “I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?” 

    The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed. 

    Sonara community room
    An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.  

    Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.  

    CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.  

    “Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.  

    Elephant watch
    Elephant watch. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.  

    Gathering greens
    Gathering greens. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    “We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.” 

    Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”  

    Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal