All aboard La Dolce Vita: Postcard from the Italian Orient Express

INSPIRATION | CABANA TRAVEL | WORLD OF CABANA

The Orient Express has been transporting passengers in style for well over a century but, until a year ago, never with a dedicated all-Italian train. Now, with multiple journeys across Italy, a hotel in Rome and a just-opened hotel in Venice, the fabled brand – as much a cultural symbol as a train – is racing towards its future. Camilla Frances hops on board to experience one of La Dolce Vita's Italian itineraries.

BY CAMILLA FRANCES | CABANA TRAVEL | 5 APRIL 2026

Every aspect of La Dolce Vita has been designed with Italian ambassadorship in mind.

A leather and canvas tote bag embossed with ‘LDV’ hangs on the door of my wardrobe, a gold Colombina mask dangles from my bookshelves, Venetian slippers rest at the foot of my bed, and a half-eaten box of Sienese almond pastries sits on my kitchen table. Along with hundreds of new images filling my camera roll, they are all that remain, tangibly speaking, of an unforgettable trip with the all-Italian iteration of the Orient Express. ‘LDV’ stands for La Dolce Vita, both the train's name – after the Federico Fellini film and its golden-hued vision of Italian life in the 60s – and the experience the new-look Orient Express is selling.

Every aspect of La Dolce Vita has been designed with Italian ambassadorship in mind, from the ‘best of’ on-the-ground itineraries to the menus by chef Heinz Beck, whose La Pergola in Rome holds three Michelin stars, and the sleek interiors by Milan-based Dimorestudio. For nearly a year, this state-of-the-art vessel, made up of 12 refurbished vintage Italian rail carriages, has been taking passengers across Italy on 18 carefully curated journeys. My three-night voyage took us from Rome to Siena, via Venice, with two nights onboard and the third in Rome, at the brand's first hotel, Orient Express La Minerva, which is mere steps from The Pantheon.

While La Dolce Vita is a young train – it will celebrate its first birthday next month – its alma mater is not. It follows in the tracks of a fleet that began operating in 1876 when Georges Nagelmackers founded the Compagnie International des Wagons-Lits (International Sleeping-Car Company). Six years later, having seen sleeping cars transform rail travel, he launched the first international luxury train: Orient Express. The maiden voyage set off in 1883, with the trans-European train taking passengers from Paris to Constantinople in 81 hours.

La Dolce Vita lounge at Rome's Ostiense station, designed by Hugo Toro © Mr Tripper.

In the near-century that followed, until 1977, the Orient Express evolved into a complex collection of networks and journeys, which connected notable European cities with each other, and East with West. Writing in Orient Express & Co: Unpublished photographic archives of a legendary train, historian Arthur Mettetal describes the train as a diplomatic and economic tour de force: “one of the great achievements made in the name of progress in the second half of the 19th-century, to the same extent as the Suez Canal or the American transcontinental railroad”. 

It’s with this illustrious history in mind that I board La Dolce Vita in Rome. Most journeys begin and end here, at the Orient Express lounge at Ostiense train station. It's the portal through which we’ll travel, leaving the working world and its to-do lists and group chats for an alternate universe of elegance. Arriving straight from the airport, I am grateful for the softly-lit spacious bathrooms full of amenities, and the Hugo Toro-designed bar with its terracotta and caramel upholstery, curved travertine surfaces, mid-century inspired furniture and live jazz performers. And for the beautifully printed paper ticket (which all guests will surely keep as a memento), swift redirection of my luggage and the cold glass of champagne pressed into my hand by an immaculately dressed member of the team.

Toro has designed the lounge to reflect the lustre and romance of the Orient Express. There’s a light touch in the references, a nod to Golden Age travel, but it remains a contemporary interpretation of a classic story. Most memorably, this is where the nonstop Italian hospitality begins, accompanied by live music, laughter, and copious aperitivo. Small plates follow cocktails, before we are ushered to the awaiting train and welcomed by the entire crew. Then, the most exciting part: an introduction to my cabin by my personal conductor, Daryl.

One of La Dolce Vita's 18 suites, designed by Dimorestudio © Mr Tripper.

With characteristic panache, Dimorestudio have designed the train’s 18 suites and 12 deluxe cabins along with its restaurant, cocktail bar and lounge. Their hand is unmistakable, as is Italy’s, with echoes of 20th century Italian masters – Gio Ponti, Carlo Scarpa, Gae Aulenti – in the spatial design, decorative motifs and finely executed details. Mirrored and lacquered surfaces follow the curves of the train, reflecting light and maximising the sense of free space in these cozy rooms, which all manage to contain a double bed, beautifully appointed bathroom and space to dine, read and watch the world race by. 

My conductor, Daryl (who acts as a personal butler throughout the trip and can be contacted 24/7 via a button in a guest’s cabin) asks if I’d like to pre-order breakfast in bed, then leaves me to unpack and head to the restaurant carriage where a seven-course feast awaits, with more champagne and excellent wine pairings. La Dolce Vita is pure decadence, already. Indulgence seems the only sensible option. Besides, our chef for the night, Walter, has assured me, with a knowing smile, that his rustic Italian banquet (a menu designed by Beck, featuring lasagne, arancini and risotto) is deceptively light on the stomach.

As I wobble through the corridors later, feeling anything but light – and following a riotous after-party in the bar with more live music – a flashing green button comes into view. I press it and am briefly startled as doors slide open and reveal mechanics and metal underfoot. Stepping over the threshold, I remember this is still an active train on Italy's national rail network. Moments like this, of which there are several, are a little surreal and just add to the theatre. As does the sheer novelty of life in a moving bedroom: brushing your teeth to the soundtrack and sway of the train, steadying yourself as you walk from bathroom to bed.

One of La Dolce Vita's 12 deluxe cabins, designed by Dimorestudio © Mr Tripper.

By the time I am ready to sleep, the train has stopped. We are untethered somewhere in rural Italy for a few hours, allowing the driver to rest and the train to refuel (although guests can still expect 24-hour service). Slightly unnerved by the sudden stillness, I vow to be ready for sleep before we stop tomorrow. We’re on the move again by 5am and I am woken to the succouring sound of rhythmic machinery and heavy rain.

When I wake again, we are nearly in Venice. After a brief sojourn through the station, accompanied by guest experience managers who know each of our itineraries – guests can choose from several options, or opt for time at leisure – we are in private water taxis exchanging onboard observations. We all slept well, concurring the cabin suites were as comfortable as top hotels, and all the more thrilling. There is a sense of camaraderie among guests, brought together for an experience that’s new to all. We share favorite moments and observations: falling asleep to the white noise of the tracks, rising to ever-changing views, showering in a train. And for one guest, finding themselves eating breakfast in bed when their carriage stopped, rather memorably, right next to a packed commuter train.

It's bright and mild as we meet our local hosts for a day weaving through Venice's canals, piazzas and palaces. Our group will be touring the Palazzo Ducale, near St Mark’s Square, with a behind-the-scenes tour of the palace’s network of secret rooms and prisons, which famously held Casanova in 1755. With an almost unending list of must-visits across Italy's Renaissance cities, the OE team are constantly reviewing their itineraries, ensuring guests have access to behind-the-scenes and money-can’t-usually-buy experiences. Other groups embark on guided studio tours and visits to private palazzos, but we all convene at Venetian institution Café Florian for its famous hot chocolate, and a charming trattoria for lunch (spaghetti a la vongole).

Deluxe cabins feature sofas by day and beds by night © Mr Tripper.

Returning to the train, we retire to our cabins until a crackly, nostalgic announcement signals aperitivo hour in the bar. We drink martinis and champagne cocktails while small plates of cured meats, ceviche, crostini and tapioca circulate and Italy flashes by. Dinner on night two is a more refined affair, and no less delicious. Heinz Beck’s culinary flair is on full display with a shellfish variation with legumes and spiced consommè followed by zita gnocchetti with cacio e pepe on a herb foam and olive-crusted lamb with carrot and galangal sauce. This time, I make it into bed before the train stops. Tomorrow, Siena.

It pays to wake early and I long to be an early riser who feels fresh at 5am. I am not, but the promise of watching the sun rise over Tuscan hills from the comfort of my moving bed is enough to rouse me by 6am. No matter how many times you’ve visited, Siena is arresting. After a quick espresso, our guide walks us to the Duomo, where we marvel at this feat of engineering and design. By the time we step outside, the Tuscan sun has well and truly woken; I make a mental note to bask in it post lunch, not knowing when London will see the same.

Although the Duomo takes some beating, our next stop was a personal favorite: a visit to a privately-owned palazzo in the center of Siena. Very much lived in by our affable host, despite its museum-worthy appearance, the palazzo enjoys one of Siena’s most spectacular locations with a drawing room directly overlooking the Piazza del Campo, the site of Italy's most famous Palio. We are given a tour – highlights include an impeccable set of vintage Ginori porcelain – before we are offered sparkling wine once more. When in Siena. Lunch is a relaxed, family-style affair at the charming Osteria le Legge just a two-minute stroll from the palazzo. Our group eats cured Cinta Sienese ham and focaccia dripping with delicious olive oil, followed by crispy artichoke, smoked provola and green olives, and meat-filled tortellini with Parmigiano Reggiano. We all agree it’s worth the trip to Siena alone.

It’s been a three-day whirl through some of Italy’s best bits, the sort you’d never be able to experience so quickly, or in such dedicated comfort, by any other means. It’s a long time since I’d slept on a moving train, and the last time was a white-knuckle feat of endurance on a 16-hour sleeper between Bangalore and Hampi, precariously resting on a thin metal bunk as the train emptied and filled at regular intervals throughout the night. There is no comparison. Here, I feel like Alice through the looking glass, hurtling from one wondrous place to the next. If Alice had a personal butler and a Dimore-designed bedroom, of course. Right on cue, Daryl, having noticed my fondness for a (very un-Italian) cappuccino in the afternoon, arrives with one, and a plate of warm cookies. When such touches are genuinely thoughtful and based on careful observation rather than performance, you’ve hit the hospitality jackpot.

I savour the final hour onboard, lying on my bed watching ever-changing scenes outside and the cabin’s mirrored surfaces glinting with evening sun. My tea cup and saucer gently clatter as the train thunders home. When we’re back on solid ground, I miss the motion and noise, often feeling the strange sensation that I’m still on a train. As I walk around my (beautiful) room at La Minerva, I feel the gentle sway of the rails and realize it must be a memory that my muscles have retained. It’s an oddly comforting feeling that echoes for several hours after we disembark. Perhaps this is La Dolce Vita: a lingering sense of comfort and life-long memories of cypress trees and palm trees flashing by as we travelled from Siena to Rome.