Reviving the romance of the rails: thanks to a major government initiative, Chile's once-esteemed railway system is beginning to relive its glory days, with a strikingly modern image.

• Author: Holston, Mark

In his pressed navy blue suit, white shirt, golden-hued necktie, and jaunty conductor's cap, Rodrigo Gutierrez is the public face of the Chilean government's passenger train service, the Empresa de los Ferrocarriles del Estado. or EFE. as it is widely known. He strides amiably through three spacious passenger cars that feature large windows with retractable sun screens over the windows and comfortable upholstered seats, Of Japanese vintage from the 1970s, the bulky cars glide smoothly and quietly through the outskirts of Santiago, but on this run. there are few passengers. It all depends on the season and day of the week. Gutierrez says. He chats with travelers. collects tickets, and makes preparations for the next scheduled stop. Affable to a fault, clean-cut, proud of his job. he is one of fourteen hundred employees who keep the country's passenger trains humming. On the job for six years, he mostly works the eight-hour Santiago to Concepcion run.

With one eye always on his watch, he knows that maintaining the line's published schedule will, over time, persuade more of his countrymen to choose the train over buses. "Today, we have a greater frequency of trains, more stations, and we're replacing all of the ties," he notes. "That will make the trains run more smoothly and safely." He glances outside as the orange hard hats of a work crew fly by in a blur. "They're at it around the dock," he marvels, motioning at piles of new ties. "It's a long process."

As a new passenger boards at Talca, Gutierrez smiles when he learns that the father of sixteen-year-old high school student Soledad Ruminot is someone he knows--a fellow EFE employee. Soledad travels for free, thanks to her dad's work as a conductor, but she says she would use the train regardless. "It's very peaceful," she says, stretching out. in an extra-spacious seat in the middle of the car, taking in the stunning panorama of vineyards, orchards, and fertile river valleys set against a backdrop of snow-capped Andes. "And it's safer," she adds, reflecting on a rash of recent highway accidents, "than taking the bus."

In the dining car, another scene underscores wily rail travel is rebounding in popularity in Chile: a trio of concessionaires prepares and serves a steak and salad lunch, including glasses of locally produced carmenere and merlot wine. Jorge Guzman, a forty-two-year dining-car veteran, wistfully recalls serving on the Mendoza to Los Andes route three decades ago. "It's very sad that it doesn't exist today," he says as he opens another bottle of wine. "It was spectacular."

Many seasoned travelers to Latin America have tapped both the nostalgia and practicality of train travel to explore the hinterland of nations from Mexico to Argentina. Ornate terminals, prominent architectural fixtures in most major Latin American cities for most of the past century, bustled around the clock with passengers queuing up to board first-, second-, and third-class coaches for destinations near and far. Among the most storied routes were those from Mexico City to Veracruz and Guadalajara, and Rio de Janeiro to Sao Paulo, where passengers could watch the sights whiz by from the comfort of dining and smoking cars. The Buenos Aires to Mendoza run over the pampas was but a prelude to a stunning, high-elevation passage through the Andes to Santiago. Skirting the lagoons and locks of the Panama Canal, the trip in creaking cars from Colon to Panama City was accompanied by cries of monkeys and jungle birds. In Ecuador, visitors could marvel at the dramatic topographical transition from Andean highlands to the swampy coastal plain on the fabled Quito to Guayaquil line. And in La Paz, passengers on the overnight trip to Arica, Chile, bundled up in heavy blankets to ward off the night chill.

Unfortunately, most of those once-popular itineraries have long since been relegated to the annals of railroad lore...