GoldenPass Belle Époque: How to Take Switzerland's Most Beautiful Train Journey
I journeyed on the GoldenPass Belle Époque train from Montreux to Gstaad, a two-hour journey through vineyards, lakes and the Berner Oberland that rivals the Glacier Express for beauty. From the jazz shores of Montreux to the polished chalets of Gstaad, this is Switzerland’s most elegant scenic train ride.
From the window of our early morning train out of Geneva, Lake Léman flashed in and out of view, the mountain peaks still veiled with mist. I was seven months pregnant, and after a week of carting my ever-growing bump around in the heat of the Côte d’Azur, I was craving a day that moved at the pace of an old film. The GoldenPass Belle Époque train from Montreux to Gstaad, a route that I’d had bookmarked for years, seemed to promise exactly that. One of Switzerland’s most scenic train journeys, it’s a two-hour rival to the better-known but longer Glacier Express. I couldn’t wait to rest my swollen feet and take a journey that I could watch from a window.
We pulled into Montreux, a lakeside town best known for its jazz festival and for once luring Freddie Mercury into residence. We’d reserved our GoldenPass Belle Époque tickets in advance (essential, as only a couple of departures of the vintage train run each day) and joined a small crowd of day-trippers and couples off to spend their weekend-á-deux rolling from one lofty alpine village to another.
We waited for the 9:50, the only morning Belle Époque departure, watching the sleek modern trains that we would return on slide past. At last our vintage carriages appeared, a reproduction inspired by the short-lived Golden Mountain Pullman Express of the 1930s, itself influenced by the Venice Simplon-Orient Express. We chose to upgrade to first class for the classic velvet upholstered walls and cushioned turquoise seats, with polished walnut panelling and tables that fold out. The brass fixtures were slightly dulled by use, giving an air of the old world, and lamps glimmered above every table, not for reading though, given that our eyes were fixated permanently on the scenes through the window. We found ourselves whispering without meaning to in this drawing-room-on-wheels. With his metal ticket punch, the conductor arrived and clipped a hole in our tickets with a satisfying single click. This Swiss train ride was the Polar Express moment I’d dreamt of since I declared it my favourite Christmas film aged 12.
We pulled out of Montreux, the town disappearing behind us like the fading last shot of a technicolour film set. Grand hotels with ochre and cream façades stood shoulder to shoulder along the lakefront, their curved wrought-iron balconies draped with geraniums, their awnings striped like seaside parasols. The incline began almost immediately, the vineyards tightening above Clarens, and within minutes, the bright sprawl of Montreux was gone and replaced by meadows and the first sign of altitude, the faint outline of alpine cows grazing in the distance. The train stopped briefly at Les Avants and Montbovon, small places with a scarce footfall, I think existing mostly along this route for the pleasure of being seen from a window. By Château-d’Oex, we were within touching distance of the low clouds, their shapes casting slow-moving shows over the green rolling hills like a Constable painting (who famously said that ‘clouds are the chief organ of sentiment’ in any landscape — and he was correct). The motion of the train reminded me of the night trains I used to take with my grandmother (who had a profound fear of flying) from Paris to Venice, soothed by the hypnotic stop-start rhythm, untethered from time.
As much as we would have liked to stay on until the terminus in Zweisimmen, we only had a day to spare, so we disembarked at Gstaad, deep in the Berner Oberland. We soon realised that we had left French behind, traded for the soft consonants of Bernese German. I’ve never seen a place so prim and proper as Gstaad, like a Dreamworks movie set. I half expected little earth-men (dwarf-like figures in Swiss folklore) to pop up from man-holes in between train arrivals and tidy up for visitors. The town was first put on the map by European royals and high society in the early 20th century, who came for winter sports and stayed for the offer of privacy (and maybe for tax evasion in more recent times). Its network of elite international boarding schools, Le Rosey chief among them, later cemented its status as a training ground for future aristocrats and heirs. Timber chalets line the main pedestrianised promenade, their fretworked balconies and roofs, again, adorned with geraniums, and their ground floors occupied by luxury names like Hermès, Louis Vuitton and Moncler. Its crown spectator, the Gstaad Palace sits on a hill above the village, proud but in an understated, Swiss way (that is until you check the price: rooms start at around £1,200 a night).
Pregnancy hunger struck, so instead of wasting time in this fairytale village sitting at a restaurant, we slid into a small deli where rounds of Bergkäse sat on wooden shelves waiting for me and the little food monster in utero to devour them. Fondue is dogma in these parts, so much so that Gstaad even has its own Fondueland, a series of outdoor fondue huts dotted across mountain trails. The classic half-and-half mix of Gruyère and Vacherin is the local standard. Molten and nutty, it’s best eaten with soft, steamy bread.
If you have the time (and the right weather), it’s worth taking the bus from Gstaad to Col du Pillon, a forty-five-minute ride through curling mountain roads and the hamlet of Gsteig. From there, the Glacier 3000 cable car climbs in two smooth stages to almost 3,000 metres above Les Diablerets, before crossing into the Vaud canton, lifting you from alpine pastures to glacier in just fifteen minutes. At the summit, you can walk across the Peak Walk by Tissot, a narrow suspension bridge connecting two peaks, and on a clear day the view stretches from the Matterhorn to Mont Blanc and the Jungfrau massif. Even from below, back in the village, when the clouds lift, you catch a faint glint of that same snowy line of mountains that seem so close and so unreachable. I have to admit that being seven months in the family way, I didn’t fancy the high altitude, so the highest point I reached on this trip was the cheese counter.
By mid-afternoon, we’d admired enough to justify returning, and, truthfully, the idea of another two hours of sitting and watching the panorama from the other side of the train was too tempting to resist. For the journey back, we swapped the old carriages for the GoldenPass Panoramic train (the modern twin of the Belle Époque). Running almost hourly, it’s a logistical luxury after the twice-daily schedule of its vintage sibling. The fare is the same for these clean, modern carriages with wide windows that stretch into the ceiling and ergonomic seats. Sockets at every table were a mercy after hours of photographing every snow-dusted peak I was convinced might be Mont Blanc. Travellers comparing Swiss train rides will find this route both easier to book and better value than the Glacier Express, with similar alpine views.
Back in Montreux, the hit of the heat reminded us that we’d dropped a thousand metres in altitude. We stopped at the Fairmont Le Montreux Palace for drinks on Le Terrasse du Petit Palais, made for lazy glamour and requiring nothing more strenuous than ordering another round. As we sat, we reflected that in two hours we’d crossed languages and climates, and that the GoldenPass Belle Époque train’s real luxury isn’t in the brass or the upholstered seats, but in its pace, when all there is to do is look out of the window and remember what slow travel used to feel like.
Tips for booking:
If you’re planning it, book the Belle Époque out and the Panoramic back.
The Belle Époque only runs twice daily from Montreux and must be reserved on the MOB website (an extra CHF 10 to reserve your seat).
Use your Swiss Travel Pass. The Swiss Travel Pass covers standard fares on the GoldenPass Line, including both the Belle Époque and Panoramic trains. You’ll only need to pay a small seat-reservation fee (around CHF 10), which you can add when booking online.
The Panoramic runs hourly.
Sit on the right-hand side for the climb, pack something to eat as there’s no restaurant onboard.