I had always dreamt of travelling on the Orient-Express and now I was actually on board I was determined to look my glamorous and well-scrubbed best. So I set about dressing for dinner in the confines of my elegant private compartment.

The meticulously restored carriages date back to the Twenties and Thirties, which means there are no showers on board. Ablutions must be performed using the hideaway washing cabinet in your compartment — and this is where the fun begins.

Hopping about in my birthday suit as I try to freshen up on a speeding train gives new meaning to flashing through the French countryside. By the time I manage to dress, get my lipstick on my mouth instead of the end of my nose and conquer the challenge of putting in my contact lenses, the rest of my party is already sipping cocktails in the bar car. I lurch through the swaying carriages to join them, dodging waiters carrying meals from the tiny kitchens. A procession of passengers in their finery wafts through the bar car on the way to dinner. Nearly half are taking the trip of a lifetime to celebrate special occasions such as anniversaries, birthdays and honeymoons.

We had set out from Victoria station that morning on the London to Venice service. After champagne and a delicious lunch on the brown-and-cream British Pullman cars, we disembarked at Folkestone. A luxury coach whisked us to the EuroShuttle and, once in France, delivered us to Calais-Ville, where the gleaming blue and gold Continental train awaited.

Excitedly, we sought out our private compartments. Our bags had gone ahead and were already on board. My double compartment was everything I had imagined and more, with its splendid polished wood panelling, flower marquetry, Art Deco lights and Liberty-pattern upholstery.

Back in the bar car we are called to dinner as the train snakes out of the Gare de l’Est in Paris. We are eating in the most elegant of the three dining cars — the Lalique. It takes its name from the beautiful Lalique glass Art Deco panels of nudes lining the walls. We relax into comfy armchairs at tables laid with sparkling crystal and silverware and enjoy a superb four-course feast with fine wines.

Later we head back to our compartments, which have been transformed into cosy sleeping quarters by our personal stewards. A cotton bathrobe — one size fits absolutely everyone — is laid out on my bed. I have never slept on a train and it takes a while to nod off but I still manage several hours of solid snoozing.

Next morning I summon up the energy to ring for Stefano, my steward. While I lurk in the corridor in my all-enveloping bathrobe, he returns my compartment to daytime mode and brings my breakfast tray. I tuck into fresh croissants and fruit, watching Alpine scenery glide by as we slip over the Swiss border into Austria.

Later I wend my way through the 15 carriages that have carried spies, film stars and royalty. Most passengers leave their compartment doors open, creating a jolly atmosphere and allowing me to peek at the different marquetry, upholstery and, in some cases, families in their pyjamas.

After a brief stop in Innsbruck, the train trundles into northern Italy. We eat our farewell lunch in the Chinoise dining car as we pass by the jagged peaks of the Dolomites. Our group is disembarking in Verona, two hours short of Venice. Reluctantly we wrench ourselves off the legendary train. When we climbed aboard 29 hours earlier we stepped back into another age of travel, one in which you need only sit back, relax and thoroughly enjoy the journey.

After Stefano has bundled us off at Verona, we remain on the platform until the train pulls out, waving and gazing wistfully as it slides away.

• Sue Mallia travelled with Venice Simplon-Orient-Express (0845 0772222, www.orient-express.com) and Magic of Italy (0870 8880220, www.magictravelgroup.co.uk)

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