The Toy Train to Shimla: Arriving Slowly Through 102 Tunnels and 800 Bridges
The thing about the Kalka-Shimla toy train is that it isn't trying to get you anywhere fast. It's trying to show you something.
At 6:10 AM on a November morning, the narrow-gauge train pulls out of Kalka station — a flat, dusty junction town at the foot of the Himalayas that exists primarily as a place to leave. You won't reach Shimla until just after noon. Six hours for 96 kilometers. A car could do it in four.
But a car won't take you through 102 tunnels, over 800 bridges, past tea estates and deodar forests, or climb from 640 meters to 2,076 meters in a series of switchbacks and loops that engineering textbooks still cite as examples of "creative problem-solving under impossible topographical constraints."
The train costs INR 300-700 depending on class. The Rail Car — a glass-sided heritage coach that holds about 20 passengers — runs INR 700. Worth the premium for the panoramic windows.
The First Hour: Leaving the Plains
Kalka to Dharampur — the first stretch — is deceptive. The landscape is scrubby, semi-urban, not particularly beautiful. You think: this is what six hours buys?
Then the climbing starts. The train enters the first tunnel. Then the second. By the third, you feel the track doing something in your body — corkscrewing upward through the mountain. The engine strains. The carriages sway.
A vendor walks through selling chai in clay cups. INR 15. The tea is milky, sweet, and tastes like every Indian train journey ever taken. Sip it while pine trees begin to replace scrub brush outside the window.
The Middle Hours: The Engineering
The Kalka-Shimla Railway was completed in 1903 by the British, who needed a way to reach their summer capital without dying on horseback. The engineering is gloriously absurd. The track reverses direction at switchback stations — the train literally zigzags up the mountain. At Barog station (the longest tunnel at 1.1 km), legend holds that the original chief engineer, Colonel Barog, miscalculated and the two ends of the tunnel failed to meet. He was fined one rupee; a different engineer finished the work. The lore is part of the ride.
The train passes through stations with names like Summer Hill, Tara Devi, and Solan — each one slightly higher, slightly cooler, slightly more forested than the last. At every stop, platform vendors sell samosas (INR 10-15), pakoras, and more chai. The train pauses for 2-5 minutes. Enough time to step out, stretch, buy something fried, and reboard.
The Final Approach
The last 30 minutes are why UNESCO gave this railway World Heritage status. The track runs along a ridge with valleys dropping away on both sides. Shimla appears gradually — first the radio tower, then the Christ Church steeple, then the dense hillside of colonial buildings clinging to the slope.
The train pulls into Shimla station at 2,076 meters. The air is immediately different — cooler, thinner, smelling of pine. After six hours in a gently swaying carriage, stepping onto the platform feels like waking from a very pleasant dream.
Shimla Itself
The town is immediately charming and immediately steep. Mall Road — the pedestrian-only main drag — connects The Ridge (the central viewpoint square) to Lakkar Bazaar. No vehicles allowed. Everyone walks, including the monkeys.
Christ Church (1857) sits at one end of The Ridge, its yellow facade and stained-glass windows looking transplanted from rural England. The Ridge itself is a wide open space with Himalayan views that make it obvious why the British moved their entire government here every summer.
The Viceregal Lodge — where India's partition was decided in 1947 — is a 3 km walk from Mall Road. Guided tours run INR 40-80 and last 45 minutes. The room where Nehru, Jinnah, and Mountbatten sat is preserved, and standing in it lands the weight of history in a way reading about it never quite delivers.
The Monkeys
A word about the monkeys. Shimla's rhesus macaques are bold, organized, and absolutely not afraid of you. Near Jakhoo Temple and The Ridge, they operate with the confidence of a street gang that knows the police won't intervene.
Don't carry visible food in plastic bags. Don't make eye contact. Don't bare your teeth (they read it as aggression). Keep sunglasses secure on your face, not perched on your head — they grab shiny objects. On the Jakhoo Temple hike (2 km up, 30 minutes), carry a stick. Not to hit them. Just to look less like a target.
The 33-meter Hanuman statue at Jakhoo's summit is visible from across the city. The panoramic views from the top are worth the monkey gauntlet.
The Food
Shimla's food scene is small-town but genuine. Baljees on Mall Road (since 1930) serves some of the best dal and rice in Himachal — mains INR 150-300. Their breakfast aloo puri is a morning institution.
Sita Ram & Sons does dham — the traditional Himachali thali — for INR 150. Rice, dal, rajma, curd, sweet. Simple and filling.
For evening snacks, Lakkar Bazaar has vendors selling roasted corn (INR 30) and Maggi noodles (INR 40-50). Yes, Maggi in the mountains is a cliché. It also tastes better at 2,200 meters. That's just how it works.
The Return
The classic Himachal circuit combines Shimla with Manali, the adventure capital.
Skip the car back to Chandigarh or Delhi and take the toy train down instead. The descent reveals different views — the valleys you climbed past now lie below you, the plains shimmer in the haze, and the tunnels echo differently on the way down.
Some experiences improve with slowness. The Kalka-Shimla Railway is one of them. In a country racing to build bullet trains and expressways, this 120-year-old narrow-gauge track does something radical: it insists you take your time.
