Sad to say, Andre, even that service is close to its end: VIA Rail's rolling stock is now reaching 70 years of service, and was second-hand when purchased in the mid-'50s.
That
is sad. I was on that train in a group of students from the American prep school where I was an exchange scholar. I remember it as in first class order -- presumably not too long after it was renovated after purchase -- and offering a smooth ride and excellent food. A few years on when I was serving my military conscription's tail end of annual short-services as a briefer in the Cabinet Office, I often rode the Blue Train between Cape Town and Pretoria, mechanically a superb train with superb service but not too many hedonistic touches, and I said to the Transport Minister, I can't remember who it was then but I remember his reply to my, "Minister, you shoulda splashed out for the luxury touches like on that Canadian train, especially the bubble top view carriage." And he said, "Boy, you have rocks in your head, and they aren't gears meshing. Steward, bring some black coffee. Don't let your father discover you're a spendthrift, Andre." About 1980-something I recommended that trans-Canadian ride to in-laws celebrating one of the important wedding anniversaries, and they too enjoyed it tremendously. I don't remember seeing bicycles in the luggage coach but I'm pretty sure the staff those days would have found a way to bring your bicycle if you asked.
They'll enter service on the West Highland Line once we're able to safely complete staff training.
That sentence is the crux of the matter, Matt, unless it is a different train operator than the one I have experience of. Back in the 1990s I was in and out of Inverness like a yo-yo on DanAir, an airline with super service and gourmet food. I travelled back to London by train just once, because a client wanted to know my opinion of the service. First class was threadbare and economy was greasy. The train was next to empty but the conductor still tried to bully me about wanting a compartment to myself, which was what was booked for me. The prebooked dinner was a lobster so undersized that I wondered whether the fisherman who caught it would go to jail. The lettuce was limp enough to qualify as "distressed" (that's how models order disgusting food in restaurants so they don't eat it -- I know, I carelessly said "I'll have the same" just once, and distractedly put some of it in my mouth, and promptly spat out the slimy stuff over a bony professor of feminism who was already sulking because when she tried to tell me how to do my job, I patronised her with, "I do this for a rich living, my dear."). The cheese was pre-sliced and curling. I ate the lobster because I hadn't eaten since breakfast, fortunately -- though I of course would prefer to ascribe it to supernatural prescience -- of an Arbroath Smokey that hung over the side of plate, and wondered how fast salmonella works. Then a woman with children came in and tried to order dinner. There was none if you didn't prebook. I gave them my cheese and wilted lettuce and a spotted dick dessert that looked like it wanted to run away to grow penicillin in peace. Then I took out my leather pocketbook and unscrewed my Montblanc fountain pen, both in use only when I want to frighten the living daylights out of obstructive flunkies, and starting taking names. In the morning the contrite conductor brought me a cup of his own tea and apologised for there being no biscuits. I would bet money that railway line, which deserved to go bankrupt. would most definitely not have allowed you to bring a bike, never mind preparing special facilities for it. Sounds like you and your bike are about to be the beneficiaries of a thoroughly modernised management. Some super cycling along the coast from Nairn to the villages, from one of which sprang my beloved mother-in-law. (Didn't you ride there last year?) The canny Scot I got the bike from insisted I pay the full second-hand price, and he'd buy the bike back for an agreed price; the difference would be the rental. The "rental" came to about twice what my local LBS would charge, though the bike in Scotland was better than Joe-the-bike, my local man, would rent to strangers. Good luck on your train-enabled ride. I'm with you in spirit and look forward to your report.
