High style, no stress on the railroad to the isles

Old-fashioned luxury prevails on a four-night meander through Scotland's finest landscapes. But is a train ticket ever worth the price of a small car? Mark Wilson is prepared to be convinced

There's no easy way of saying this. What follows is the description of a four-night break - in Britain - that will cost you and your travelling companion £2,950. Each. It's not a cruise or a detox in a luxury spa or a hop in a Lear jet to a private island. No, it's a train journey, which for millions of the nation's sleep-deprived commuters could sound like the blackest humour.

For this price, you could buy Britain's cheapest new car, the Perodua Kelisa, which has a list price of £4,795, and drive the itinerary, leaving you a grand to spend on four nights' accommodation, petrol, food and entry to the castles, distilleries and more castles. And you get a car to keep, albeit not a very nice one. Can anything be worth this much?

Let's be clear. This is no ordinary train journey. It's an all-inclusive voyage around Scotland, through some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, cosseted in the sort of luxury that would shame most five-star hotels. The staff of the Royal Scotsman make you feel as though you're getting something very special. From the beginning of the journey in Waverley station, Edinburgh, you get the full Highland schtick: a little hokey, perhaps, and squared at the Americans who make up the bulk of the guests, but done with such style that you go with it.

It starts from the moment you process behind a piper through the station from the first-class lounge (past bemused passengers waiting for the 14.30 to Falkirk), are welcomed on board and led to the observation car at the back of the train for the first of many drinks. Then you are shown to your room. And, of course, this is no ordinary sleeping car. Banish memories of four-to-a-cabin overnight InterRail nightmares. There are only 16 twin and four single "state rooms" on the train, so a maximum of 36 guests could be on board, though our tally of 30 seemed about right. There are no double rooms - sorry, honeymooners - because of the restrictions on space, but the beds are very comfortable, if a little snug.

Each room is a feast of panelled wood and marquetry, with a small desk for writing gloating postcards to your friends and relatives about what a pampered time you're having; the ensuite shower room is kitted out with fluffy towels and toiletries by the luxury toiletry of choice, Molton Brown. The train stops each night in a siding, which cuts down on noise - the clanking heating system aside - but loses The Lady Vanishes charm of being lulled to sleep while the train rumbles through the night. The train leaves Edinburgh, creaks north across the Forth Railway Bridge, and enters the ancient Kingdon of Fife (everything on this trip is ancient or hidden in haunting shadows or shrouded in mysterious fascination).

Then it's across the Tay Bridge and, while taking afternoon tea, we inched through Dundee station as the evening rush hour began. The train then hugs the east coast and travels north through Aberdeen and on to Keith. As evening gathered we disgorged from the train on the first of our outings on the "luxury motorcoach", to Strathisla distillery, home of Chivas Regal.

Our host for the four days, Ian, a soft-spoken but beguilingly authoritative ex-Royal Marines brigadier, explained the ropes en route. The product was sampled - presentation sets available in the corner - followed by a ceilidh, and Ian's fantastically enthusiastic demonstrations of willow stripping. Sadly, this was the wrong demographic for vigorous exercise: their cardiologists would have heart attacks, so participation was patchy.

By this time it was back on board for some serious eating. The food on the Royal Scotsman is superb, the highlight being the best fillet steak (from local Angus cattle) I've ever eaten, although a Belgian lady who had "done" most of the world's luxury trains was of the opinion that the food wasn't quite up to Orient Express standards.

I haven't been on it but I'm surprised. How about roast asparagus with squab, pan-fried halibut with celery choucroute and langoustine ravioli, followed by iced nougat parfait, washed down with a Vasavour Chardonnay and a Montagny Joncs? What's most impressive is that the galley kitchen the food is prepared in is tiny. There are two dining cars and you could try a different table every night, either a more intimate table à deux, or a four-, six- or eight-person berth with a chance to meet the international clientele, among them two British couples who lived and worked in Germany and were writing the trip off against tax as an "international meeting". Alternate nights are informal - though T-shirt and jeans might be letting the side down a little - and formal, where black tie or kilt is required.

We sat at the table for eight on a formal night with a party of Americans, Harvard men of the 1940s, the most senior of whom was loudly complaining about "liberal" media bias in the US. ("Thank God for Fox TV," he announced.) They were all members of the Bohemians, a shadowy and ultra-exclusive club whose wealthy members (including every Republican president of the past 80 years) gather every year to perform perverse rituals in a forest near Monte Rio, California. Four days of seeing Scottish men in skirts would seem mild by comparison. The dining experience became even more surreal: while we were discussing deer management and the size of our wine cellars, a group of teenagers had gathered in the train siding and had begun snogging and smoking only yards from the window. Situationists every one of them.

Every meal on board is equally impressive. For one breakfast I had a fantastic Arbroath smokie, moist and a subtle yellow, not the bright saffron tint you get from the dyed stuff. Then there's a two-course lunch (with wine, of course) between the morning and afternoon excursions.

The four-night journey we took ("the Classic") takes a circular trip anticlockwise through Scotland, with a spur off it to the Kyle of Lochalsh, with views (if you're lucky enough to go when there's no mist) to Skye. En route, there are many, many more excursions to be done: to Ballindalloch Castle, where we talked to the lairds, Oliver and Clare, on their sunny lawn about how they had diversified their income; to the absurdly picturesque Eilean Donan castle, which stands on a rocky promontory at the meeting point of three lochs; to Glamis, birthplace of the late Queen Mother, where we admired the suits of armour and ate a fine shortbread; to the Glen Grant distillery where you can have a dram or three at 10 in the morning. All interesting locations, and with access not available to most members of the public. But this is, or should be, a train trip. That is the Royal Scotsman's forte. By now, the ratio of excursion time to time spent on a moving train was badly skewed. Hilda from Northumbria was growing tired of the excursions. "I want to be on the train," she said, "otherwise it's a glorified coach trip. I might as well stay in a hotel."

So on the fourth morning, between Boat of Garten and Aviemore, we joined her in a tiny rebellion. Not wanting to get back in the coach and drive off to any of the three options - a round of golf, fly fishing or a tour of the wildlife park - we stayed on the train. And, finally, it was just how you would imagine a journey from a mythical golden age of trans-European train travel to be: sitting in the observation carriage, reading the papers, being served tea or a cocktail, as the perfect scenery - lochs, glens, castles, lowering clouds - glides by at a stately 50mph.

So is it worth nearly £3,000? It is remarkable - romantic, luxurious, almost otherworldy - but it's difficult to escape the thought that you're staying in a very long, very thin hotel, with day trips on the side. The real star of the show, available even to drivers of Perodua Kelisas, is the Scottish scenery. And that's free.

"I want to go home now," said Hilda on the final afternoon. "I've been on my best behaviour too long."

Give me the facts

How to get there

Mark Wilson travelled as a guest of The Royal Scotsman (0131-555 1021; www.royalscotsman.com). It offers a range of all-inclusive shortbreaks on board The Royal Scotsman on selected dates between April and October departing from Edinburgh Waverley station. Prices start at £690 per person, based on two sharing. The four-night Classic itinerary costs £2,950 per person, based on two sharing. This includes all meals and drinks on board as well as all off-train activities.