Rule one: Book your ticket in advance. Easter crowds are like locusts—they arrive without warning and eat all the legroom. If you wait until Sunday, you’ll end up standing next to a man with a live chicken. (This happened to me in Portugal. The chicken was well-behaved.)
Easter Sunday Running day at Woodford Railway Heritage Train - Brisbane
Rule two: Pack snacks for the apocalypse. Train café cars often close on Easter out of religious solidarity. You’ll be facing a four-hour journey with only a melted chocolate bunny and a sad orange. Bring sandwiches. And water. And a backup sandwich for the sandwich you will inevitably drop.
Rule three: Embrace the chaos. If your train is delayed, use the time to contemplate life. Why do we celebrate resurrection with chocolate? Why is a train called a “train” and not a “long bus with better dreams”? That’s the spirit of Easter—mystery, delayed gratification, and the hope that the next one won’t be cancelled.
The Final Rail of Truth
So, do the trains run on Easter Sunday? Yes, but with the enthusiasm of a teenager asked to clean their room. They’re there, but they’re late, and they smell faintly of incense. The real lesson is this: Never plan a life-changing journey around a holiday. If you must travel, check the schedule, pack a crucifix of snacks, and remember that even if the train doesn’t come, you can always walk. It’s what the disciples did. (Though probably not on a rail replacement bus.)
And if all else fails, just stay home. Eat the chocolate. Call Aunt Carol later. The train will wait—but your sanity won’t.
