|medina, oujda and lydda|11 min read
SHE LEFT her husband digging for pottery in Syria’s northern desert, handed her passport to the uniformed Turk at Nusaybin, and, as the steam whistle blew, clambered aboard the Express bound for Aleppo. On arrival, she checked into the Baron, the city’s only first-class hotel, and in room 203 began writing what is probably the most famous mystery novel of all time.
“It was five o’clock on a winter’s morning in Syria. Alongside the platform at Aleppo stood the train grandly designated in railway guides as the Taurus Express. It consisted of a kitchen and dining-car, a sleeping-car and two local coaches.” So Agatha Christie began “Murder on the Orient Express”. Set on the homeward leg of her journey through the Middle East, it conjures a lost world of interconnecting cabins, liveried conductors, embroidered handkerchiefs and passengers who dressed for dinner.
This article appeared in the Christmas Specials section of the print edition under the headline “Murder of the Orient Express”
From the December 18th 2021 edition
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