St Austell to Istanbul direct

I love trains. I once had a house where there were trains at the bottom of the garden. When we first moved in the noise disturbed sleep; after about a month we no longer noticed them. These were not proper trains, they were just London suburban, carrying drones to and from dreary work. Proper trains are intercontinental.

I once dragged my family onto a train at London Victoria to begin a journey which would end in Istanbul a few days later. This was 18 or 19 years before the Channel Tunnel opened. I was probably seasick on the ferry. I had always dreamed of romantic train journeys: the Trans-Siberian Express, the Canadian from Toronto to Vancouver, the Orient Express. The most practical and least expensive option was, I decided, to go from London to Istanbul. Probably the best part of it for me was the months of planning using the Thomas Cook International Timetable, each leg of the journey meticulously planned and eventually booked, hotels in Paris, Venice and Istanbul itself, all ready for the big day. [Note: school teachers = long summer holidays].

Things don't always go as planned. If you miss the once a day sleeper train from Belgrade to Istanbul - not pre-bookable through Cook's because it was run by Bulgarian Railways and there were no signs in English in Belgrade station to show where the booking office was - you may have to adjourn to a Communist era hotel and dinner at probably the only McDonalds in the Balkans. I still have this image in my mind of waving goodbye to the train, but the following day we got our travel tickets early and eagerly awaited the train as it approached, from Berlin I think. We had not, however, got sleeper berths booked but an intrepid English-speaking co-traveller advised us to just get on the train, find a sleeper compartment and occupy it pending purchase of the berths.

We also hadn't realised that Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher had had some kind of tiff with the Greeks about visas so, when we got to the Yugoslavia/Greece border those without visas had to debark onto the platform and try to deal with it. Middle of the night, long queue at the visa station, only drachmae accepted, we had none of course (we're only transiting), risk of the train going without us, I did what any proper Englishman would do: ushered the family back onto the train and into our compartment with instructions never to move, queued until it was obvious that I would miss the train, got back myself, held breath until the train departed. Ticket inspector - visas? Shrug, point at watch, sorry-no-speakie-Greek, absolutely not moving, arrest us if you will. Inspector moves off, too much trouble. Sleep to Istanbul. By the time we made the return trip the politicians had sorted it out and no visa required.

I loved it all. I thought back on this when HS2 was first mooted in 2009. My dream of cross-European travel might come true; I could embark in Cornwall, where I was now living, bypass the awful London underground, sleep through the Channel Tunnel and wake up somewhere exotic like Barcelona, Prague or Athens. But no, there's no HS2 to Cornwall. And no link to the Channel Tunnel. No link to Heathrow airport. Not even a link to London termini. When I was a boy, I was very much into trainspotting (steam train era) and I used to travel across north London to somewhere called Old Oak Common where an adventurous young lad could find a viewing point to see the trains going in and out of London Paddington; the iconic locomotives of the Great Western Railway.

But Old Oak Common was where HS2 would stop, after which travellers would have to get a bus - maybe even a horse-drawn carriage - into London.

HS2 was never designed to go anywhere interesting. Birmingham, Manchester, Leeds - who wants to go there? At least go to Edinburgh, Holyhead, Penzance, Inverness, York - places worth visiting.

Who wants high speed anyway? Classic rail travel is leisurely, taking in the scenery of places you haven't been to before and would love to come back to; not Birmingham. Whilst sipping a glass of cheap plonk.

18 years ago, after my elder son's wedding in Sydney, Australia, I traversed the continent on a 3 day train trip from Sydney to Perth. 

(I know, it's faded with time and the Cornish sun)

Desert all the way but some interesting side trips including to a Kalgoorlie gold mine. Flew back to Adelaide where I joined the Ghan train to Darwin via Alice Springs. Scenery, glass of Aussie Shiraz.

If Britain actually wanted un Grand Projet, as a symbol of national brilliance, openness and ingenuity, HS2 should have joined up [levelled up?] Scotland, Wales, the South West, Heathrow, London termini and linked to HS1. Pay for it all by imposing swingeing air travel taxes.

I dream that one day I'll be sitting on platform 2 at St Austell station

awaiting the arrival of the weekly Penzance to Istanbul sleeper train. £1500 return for senior citizens, plonk included. Book early, it'll be popular. See you there?