E&O is the way to go

You can see the whole country by luxury rail

A journey on the Eastern & Oriental Express is a must-do, at least once in your lifetime. I sway side to side, dreaming about sipping pina coladas on the beach when suddenly there's a knock on my door. "It's 7.30am, ma'am - you've missed the sunrise," chirps cabin steward Prachak Thaweephol.

"I'll bring you breakfast at 8. Remember, we disembark at 8.30."

I'm on a four-day, three-night journey on the E&O from Bangkok to Chiang Mai and back. Despite the jolts and swings, my Pullman compartment, the smallest of the three cabin types, is so comfortable I want to continue snoozing.

This train's been running since 1993, a copy of its sister, the 130-year-old Orient Express that shuttled between London, Paris and Venice.

The E&O actually chugs all the way from Singapore to Vientiane, and was particularly welcome for the Kuala Lumpur-Bangkok leg that eliminates the need to switch trains at Butterworth.

Southeast Asia's only luxury train has by now carried its share of royalty, statesmen, actors and other notables. The "special guest" on my junket is 79-year-old American author William Warren, who worked in television news before his 1960 assignment to Asia fostered a love affair with Bangkok, where he's lived ever since.

Warren was friends with Jim Thompson, the "silk king", and not long ago wrote a biography focusing on Thompson's "unsolved" disappearance.

"I found a subject people weren't writing about - Thailand," the author of 54 books tells me of his early days in the region. "Everyone was writing about Vietnam then."

We sit back and enjoy the E&O's celebrated opulence: wood panelling, classy restaurant cars, a boutique, Bvlgari toiletries, soft lighting.

There's plenty to do - or nothing at all, if you prefer. You can relax in the reading room, have a drink in the Bar Car or just watch the world zip by in the Observatory Car. The last carriage is popular with smokers and, ironically, anyone wanting fresh air.

We rumble past hills, temples, rice paddies and tropical jungle and, on reaching Chiang Mai, I opt for a visit to the Mae Sa Elephant Camp, which for three decades has been breeding the beasts and training both them and the mahouts.

This is also, our guide proudly notes, "the first camp in Thailand where elephants painted".

That famous elephant memory helps them mimic the mahouts' brushstrokes and produce striking works of art, like the 2005 group effort that became the most expensive painting ever sold in Thailand. It went for Bt1.5 million.

After lunch at the Mandarin Oriental Dhara Devi resort and a tour of the city, we're back on the train and appreciating the air-conditioning. Stories are swapped over drinks, and then I find Prachak in my cabin preparing tea for me. I'm not about to let it got to waste.

At 6.45pm I wake from a nap and dash for the shower, knowing I've already missed cocktails. Pianist Peter Consigliere, 68 - who sometimes dresses like Elvis - consoles me that more will be served after dinner, and I head off to join the others.

The next day we visit the Si Satchanalai Unesco World Heritage site in Sukhothai, with its 13th-century temples in a haunting state of disintegration.

Lunch back on board is an array of gastronomic delights that showcase the fragrant flavours of the region. It's amazing what can come out of the train's tiny kitchen.

Diners are given different table numbers at every meal to facilitate friendship, but sitting on your own is okay too.

Daytime meals involve casual

but smart attire. In the evenings, it's jacket-and-tie minimum for the men and glamour for the women. Any travellers who fail the grade are seated in the Saloon Car, says Ulf Buchert, the director of passenger services.

"We have a dress code, and if people are underdressed, or if there are noisy kids, then we have to send them elsewhere."

Dutch photographer Tom Van der Leij is wearing shorts and flip-flops, and I'm in jeans and trainers guiltily, but Buchert must be in a good mood - he doesn't banish us elsewhere.

Lampang, our next stop, is a quaint little town where horse-drawn carriages are still popular. The horses are understandably lethargic today: The temperature is 43 degrees, making this Lampang's hottest day of the year.

We ride along narrow streets to Baan Sao Nak, the House of Many Pillars, built by a Burmese teak trader. The architecture blends Burmese and Lanna styles and the house is filled with antiques. On the train for our last night, Van der Leij, 35, who knows European railways well, tells me the E&O is a class above the rest.

"This is luxury to a certain level," he says. "Once you get used to the swaying motion you adapt. In the beginning everyone was reserved, but as time went by we got to know each other better, especially at the bar, and it was enjoyable. I'd definitely do it again."

Koici Ota, 47, brought four books along, expecting to have plenty of free time to read, but found himself enjoying all the activities and socialising instead.

He took the train to "test it out", to see if it was appropriate to bring his wife and children in future.

"It's different from what I expected. I was surprised there were some singles."

All too soon the four days come to an end, but our group of friends agree to have a reunion someday, somewhere.