The ‘retiree’ train holiday is making a surprising comeback with young travellers in 2027 – and now I’m a convert too. Here’s why: BEN MACK

We glide along the tracks amid long toots of the train’s whistle – it’s surprising how smooth the journey is considering the frequent curves. 

To our right are wrinkled, sun-blasted hills carpeted in golden grass and sagebrush. On our left, the sea has the same colour and texture to be part of a giant’s denim jacket or favourite pair of jeans. 

But what could be mistaken for sparkly rhinestones aren’t that: they’re offshore oil rigs, glistening in the midday light.

Such views – near Santa Barbara, California – form one of the most scenic sections of the Coast Starlight’s route. 

The long-distance Amtrak train runs up America’s West Coast, from balmy Los Angeles to Seattle in the temperate Pacific Northwest, a journey of about 2,216km (1,377 miles) which can take nearly 36 hours.

Younger generations have been embracing ‘slow travel’ – if the sheer amount of content on Instagram and TikTok featuring river cruises and railroad adventures is any indication. 

My fiancée and I decided a journey aboard Amtrak’s Coast Starlight would be a terrific way to see the part of the U.S. beyond popular tourist spots during its 250th birthday, without feeling rushed or having to drive ourselves.

Our journey proves memorable before even climbing aboard. From the historic (and supposedly haunted by Marilyn Monroe’s ghost) Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel along the Walk of Fame, it’s about a 40-minute cab ride through a concrete and palm tree maze to Art Deco-meets-Mission Revival Los Angeles Union Station.

But our taxi has no driver. Waymo autonomous vehicles operate in several cities, including Los Angeles.

Booked through an app, the vehicle stops silently alongside our hotel. A female voice that sounds AI-generated welcomes us – and off we go.

Sitting on soft leather seats in the back, we’re manoeuvred through crowded, chaotic streets as if guided by an invisible, occult witch’s hand – or at least the sensors within the conical contraption on the roof of the vehicle, a white Jaguar I-Pace. The car plays music, a Spotify playlist from my fiancée’s connected account.

We’d read horror stories of ‘robotaxis’ crashing or getting stuck, driving in circles, and a tendency to take off before passengers can collect their luggage. But we’re impressed how it steers perfectly, at one point quickly stopping when a pedestrian crossing the street abruptly walks back the way they came. Still, seeing the steering wheel turning on its own is an eerie sight.

Union Station feels like the West Coast sister of New York’s Grand Central, with cavernous concourses, enormous chandeliers and coffered ceilings. With marble and terra cotta floors – parts of the walls are travertine marble, too – it’s easy seeing why it’s been in films and TV shows from Blade Runner and The Dark Knight Rises to Euphoria.

We relax at the Metropolitan Lounge prior to boarding. I’m reminded of a Qantas Club, with a small buffet, lacquered wood accents, someone at the entrance checking guests in, and regular boarding announcements.

Being a multi-day trip, there are several ways to travel aboard the double-decker Coast Starlight. Choices range from a basic seat comparable to flying premium economy to private, first-class air-conditioned compartments with airplane-style ensuite toilets, armchairs, and couches staff convert into bunks at night.

We opt for the private compartment. We find it spacious for two people, though still smaller than cruise ship cabins. It also has its own sink, mini-closet with hangers, and racks for luggage. The compartment’s also covered in thin, dark blue carpet, like most of the train.

Landscapes float by as we get underway. There’s no Wi-Fi on board, but we don’t notice thanks to the views. The gleaming, glass and steel skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles are soon replaced by the one and two-storey houses, big-box stores and lake-sized carparks of Californian suburbia.

The imagery, so familiar thanks to Hollywood, becomes more cinematic in the observation car, which easily has the best views on board. Huge windows, including skylights, mean we can also see an azure sky overhead. The only challenge is finding a seat on one of the blue leather recliners, as the observation car is open to everyone and doesn’t require reservations.

Next to the observation car is the dining car. Our first-class tickets mean meals are included – lunch, dinner, breakfast, and another lunch. A staff member visits us in our compartment not long after we depart to write down what time we’d like lunch – a process repeated several hours before each meal.

Cosy booths are set along large windows in the dining car, with plastic-feeling tables reminiscent of plane tray tables (albeit far larger). The menu’s classic American: lunch choices include savoury grilled cheese sandwiches with honey cured ham on sourdough bread, or burgers with angus beef and cheddar or Swiss cheese on a brioche bun (there’s also a plant-based version made with Beyond Burger).

Three-course dinners can include steak, pan-roasted chicken breast or Atlantic salmon for mains, with coconut shrimp or green salad as an appetiser and a slice of chocolate cake or white chocolate blueberry cheesecake for dessert.

Breakfasts are diner staples like cheese omelettes, scrambled eggs and oatmeal or cereal with yoghurt and fruit. Portions are enormous – precluding a need to bring snacks as we thought we might for a long journey.

Regardless of selection, they’re accompanied by sides including crispy kettle chips. To wash it down there’s Starbucks coffee (regular and decaf), tea (hot and iced), water (still and sparkling), orange juice and soft drinks – plus milk.

It’s during lunch we first glimpse the sea. The Pacific Ocean shimmers as we hug the winding coastline. Sandy beaches stretch out beneath us in some sections, while in others we skim clifftops with nothing but water below.

We’d read whales and dolphins can sometimes be seen from the train. Perhaps we’re simply unlucky we fail to see any.

Yet we do feel lucky the weather isn’t too broiling – Southern California summer temperatures regularly exceed 40 degrees Celsius – when we step off to stretch our legs. While most of the Coast Starlight’s stops are just for a couple minutes, with passengers told to only get off if they won’t be coming back on, a few 15-minute ‘fresh air breaks’ provide an opportunity to walk around.

Our first break comes in late afternoon. 

San Luis Obispo station almost looks more like a Spanish mission or hacienda, with white stucco walls and red clay roof tiles. Inside, we learn from a plaque the nearly 27km (16.6-mile) section going north-east to Santa Margarita was the most difficult part to build of the Southern Pacific Railroad’s main line between Los Angeles and San Francisco – along which the Coast Starlight travels – due to its steep grade and relatively high elevation.

It doesn’t feel steep as we continue. Rather, we traverse vast fields of green. California’s known for its fruit and vegetable orchards.

But suddenly we round a bend, and it feels like we’ve slipped into another, Dickensian world. Dark metal machines called oil derricks go up and down like pendulums, pumping ‘black gold’ out of the scorched, brown ground. The oil fields stretch on, and on, until we round another bend and abruptly return to farmland.

We return from dinner to find the couch in our compartment turned into a single-sized bed, with another pulled down from the wall above. The white sheets are thin, but the light blue blankets fluffy and warm.

The fields glow amid a sherbet-hued, orange and pink sunset. We’ve not quite reached the San Francisco Bay Area by the time we drift off to sleep, grateful the pillows aren’t too lumpy.

At first, I can’t tell where I am when I awake. Skyscraper-tall, green-needled fir trees are on either side. We roll past colossal sapphire lakes, fringed by marshes and sinewy reeds. Large, dark birds soar overhead.

Surprised how refreshed I feel, we stop a few minutes later in Klamath Falls – meaning we’re already in Southern Oregon. We’ve slept through breakfast, but I don’t mind while watching the natural scenery. 

The next few hours consist of more trees, more lakes, as we make our way through Fremont-Winema National Forest and Klamath Marsh National Wildlife Refuge. Beaver dams outnumber human houses.

It’s again late afternoon when buildings dot the landscape as we approach Portland, in Oregon’s extreme north. Even if it weren’t our final destination, we’d have to get off, as the conductor announces a bus will take passengers the rest of the way to Seattle due to a fire at a historic flour mill near Portland’s Union Station.

Crossing the wide Willamette River on the aptly-named Steel Bridge, we grind to a halt. It’s cooler than Los Angeles, but still warm. Staff bid us farewell, and we collect our luggage from a carousel inside the station, which also has coffered ceilings and dates to 1896.

We’re shocked how quickly 30-plus hours have passed. But thanks to the diversity of landscapes, comfort of our accommodations and the food included, we’re less surprised how quickly we both say we’d like to take another long-distance train.