2007 Shatabdi Express

Most Brits are conditioned to feel nostalgic about the railways - mainly because we can remember their glory days, but also because we are incessantly complaining about their current dilapidated state.

The railways are an institution in India. Not only does it have the most extensive network in the world, carrying millions of people every day. It is also the world's biggest employer with close to 3m workers. Of course, the impressive statistics hide the fact that much of the rolling stock is old and crumbling, there are few high-speed routes, and delays are frequent.

But for me, riding an Indian train is full of nostalgia. On most European trains food carts are merely designed for glorified snacking. In India, you've barely been seated five minutes when the tea-wallah comes racing down the aisle to offer you a cup of piping hot chai. What's more, he's soon followed by a samosa-wallah, a myriad of others serving rice, raitas, chutneys, curd, mango juice and more!

Outside rice paddies and water buffalo drift past my window. A man is bent double, plucking coriander from his plot. A boy rides an oversized bike down a dirt track. Palm trees and a cloudy grey sky. Humid, sticky. Hot.

On board a plane you miss the subtle, slow transformation of a landscape. Frames of reference are distort and time is shortened. Going by train is the way travel should be: functional yet timeless, languid and enjoyable. I can't help but think we've lost something by flying about in aluminum birds.