State-owned railways aren’t usually associated with upscale travel. So when I heard that Spain’s national rail system had a luxury sleeper-train route called the Costa Verde Express, my curiosity was piqued, and I signed up.
The six-day trip travels along the country’s “green coast” in the north, stopping in medieval towns, UNESCO-protected parks, and seaside villages. In October 2023, I boarded the train for its weekly journey between the industrial city of Bilbao and Santiago de Compostela: the final stop of one of Catholicism’s most sacred pilgrimages, known as the Camino de Santiago. While there would be overlaps with one of the pilgrimage routes, my itinerary would feature Champagne dinners, a private cabin, local guides at every stop, and even an onboard gala.
I arrived at the Bilbao-Concordia train station at 10 a.m., just early enough to drop off my bags and grab a pastry and apricot juice before joining a tour of the old town and the Guggenheim Museum. When we returned, a porter escorted me to my cabin. It was smaller than I expected — barely big enough for a double bed and built-in desk — but stylish nonetheless, with wood-paneled walls, silky gold curtains, and a bijou bathroom with a glass shower and marble sink.
The train rolled out at 2:15 p.m. as glasses of Catalan cava were served in the Pullman dining car, which had more wood paneling, green velvet armchairs, and brass table lights. Over the next three hours, waiters in tartan vests and white gloves served a four-course lunch of French toast with foie gras and blueberry (better than it sounds), Basque fish stew, duck confit, and cheesecake. As vineyards and apple orchards blurred past the windows, I chatted with several of my fellow passengers, a group of about 50 smartly dressed travelers that included a flamenco dancer from Andalusia and a psychologist from Puerto Rico. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?” said a flight attendant from Chicago who sat near me during lunch.
We arrived at the port city of Santander at 5:30 p.m., with enough daylight hours left for a guided coach tour of the coast. The bay was turning a cotton-candy pink as the tour ended, so I opted for a swim at El Sardinero, a wide beach fringed by Belle Époque buildings. The water was ice-cold, but the sunset was unforgettable. After drying off between two boulders, I joined my fellow passengers in town at Querida Margarita, where I enjoyed a butter-smooth Ibérico-pork shoulder.
For the evening’s entertainment, there was a magic show on the train, but I wanted to see more of Santander, so I explored the 13th-century cathedral and lively Plaza de Cañadío on my own. Besides, the train was stationery every night, so there was no rush. When I returned to my cabin, there was a square of dark chocolate on my pillow. I went to sleep to the rustling sounds of birds nesting in the station’s tiled roof.
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The wake-up bell rang at 8 o’clock, and the train jolted into action. I lay in bed, watching curly-horned cows graze on chartreuse pastures and children playing on swings as we glided through the rolling hills of the Cantabria region. A breakfast of smoked salmon and made-to-order eggs was served in the dining car as the train trundled toward Cabezón de la Sal, a salt-mining town. We arrived at 9:30, and a bus took us to the Altamira Museum, where we marveled at the replicas of Paleolithic cave paintings discovered nearby in 1879.
After a lunch of cocido, a bean stew with black pudding and chorizo, at Santillana Gil Blas, a traditional Cantabrian restaurant near the museum, we explored Santillana del Mar, a beautiful medieval village. “It’s like a living museum,” said our guide, Daniel Escudero. The shops on the main street sold Cantabrian anchovies, wild-boar sausages, and orujo, a local brandy. I met two pilgrims from Canada who were buying butter cake, the town’s signature treat. They had walked 186 miles of the Camino de Santiago — and had 300 more to go.
Like the pilgrims, we continued west to Llanes, the medieval port town built along rocky turquoise coves where we would spend our second night. Dinner — monkfish salad, beef loin, and tocinillo de cielo, a flanlike dessert — was served on board, followed by a gin-spritz master class with Nacho Capín, the train’s mixologist.
I woke up to the squawk of a cockerel and the smell of cow dung — the train was parked in the station in Asturias, Spain’s “natural paradise.” After breakfast, we boarded a coach to Picos de Europa National Park, a landscape of limestone peaks, deep river gorges, and wildflower meadows. Our driver navigated hairpin turns to reach the glacial Lakes of Covadonga, which sit more than 3,280 feet above sea level. These UNESCO-protected mountains are home to rare wildlife, including Iberian wolves and shrewlike desmans. We didn’t see either of those creatures, but we did spot a herd of horned Asturian cows, which roam the area freely, and a lone peregrine falcon circling over our heads.
We returned to the train for lunch and continued to Oviedo, the region’s stately capital. We arrived at 5:30 p.m. for a guided tour of the old quarter and the Gothic Cathedral of San Salvador of Oviedo, said to house the cloth that covered Christ’s face after his death. Dinner that evening was in the leafy courtyard of La Gran Taberna and included a delicate crab bisque and caramelized cheesecake. Before retiring to my cabin for the night, I had a nightcap at La Pumarada, a traditional pub where waiters in vests pour cider from bottles held above their heads.
The three-hour ride between the fishing villages of Candás and Luarca was the most scenic of the route. The train passed turquoise bays lapping at limestone cliffs, rivers coursing through emerald hills, and wheat fields dotted with 16th-century hórreos — hut-size granaries made of chestnut wood.
On our last full day, we arrived at Viveiro, a port town famed for its fine beaches and Holy Week celebrations. We were touring the historic center when it started to pour. The rest of the group went back to the train, but I found an umbrella and continued exploring the city on my own, taking in the 16th-century glass verandas and well-preserved medieval walls, which seemed all the more beautiful in the rain.
The final dinner — black-truffle ravioli and seared sea bass — was served aboard the train. Afterward, at 11:30 p.m., the train manager invited everyone into the bar car, which had been decorated with green and gold balloons. Champagne flowed as we raised a glass to the crew. The flamenco dancer, wearing a sparkly red dress, led the way on the dance floor, tapping her heels and getting other passengers to join in. It was 3 a.m. when I finally got to bed.
The train departed Viveiro at 7 a.m. for the city of Ferrol, where we said goodbye to the crew and boarded a bus for the hour-long drive to Santiago de Compostela. We met our guide, Manuel Mallo, at Plaza del Obradoiro, the city’s main square and the place pilgrims traditionally gather after completing the Camino.
Despite the incessant rain, the atmosphere was electric. (“If you don’t have a rainy day in Santiago, then you don’t understand Santiago,” the guide said.) Galician bagpipers played by the entrance to the plaza. Hundreds of pilgrims hugged, cried, and drank red wine from scallop shells on the granite steps of the soaring Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, a Romanesque complex that dates back to 1075 and is said to contain the remains of Saint James, one of the 12 apostles of Jesus. While I did not travel to Santiago on foot, I felt lucky to have met some pilgrims along the way — and fortunate for being able to see the green coast of Spain from the comfort of a plush train.
A version of this story first appeared in the August 2024 issue of Travel + Leisure under the headline “Spain by Train.”
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