Eurostar Etiquette

Just before Christmas, Monsieur and I collapsed onto a Eurostar train to Paris unaware that we would have free in-carriage entertainment for a good portion of our trip. Soon after the train glided away from the platform, a bilingual girl, no more than 10 years old, had a fight with her little sister as they sat across the aisle from me. There were noisy choking sobs, big red eyes and Maman promptly appeared to settle her girls. Blessed silence followed for a few minutes so I snuggled down into my seat trying to snooze the way to Paris, but this was not to be. Little Miss Songstress promptly launched into a whiny, wanna-be-popstar version of Shakin’ Stevens’ ‘Merry Christmas, Everyone’. It was pretty bad the first time she sang it, but then admittedly it was better than listening to snivelling. Maman cooed praises at her Little Miss as Little Miss decided she could sing it better a second time. And a third, and a sixth and an eleventh time. My i-Pod was out of charge. I had regrettably not considered packing earplugs. There was no way of blocking out the owner of that nasal annoyance so I sat there, along with my more considerate fellow passengers, silently wishing that the mother and her offspring would somehow find a way to accidentally fall off the train.  That didn’t happen but eventually the child grew tired of singing so stopped after the twelfth refrain. Yes, sad as it may be, I had counted. Try as I might, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

On other not-so-pleasurable train trips to France I and my fellow passengers have endured stinky food that makes you wonder if someone has hidden some Epoisses under a seat, noisy children’s games on laptops, computer downloads of comedy complete with canned laughter, and mobile ringtones that make you wish you were deaf. The noise-free carriages appearing on various UK train networks may work to counteract the sound pollution on some carriages, but then again, when reading popular opinion concerning these it would seem that the rule is seldom enforced, meaning that if Sharleen wants to sing along with her mobile phone recording of some dischordant rap song in teenage defiance of others, then noone is going to do anything about it.

 On another occasion, I endured a neighbouring 4-way conversation encompassing daughter’s search for the right university to attend in the States. Proud English father was there, talking about his American wife and life in the USA, what had brought the family back to England (schools) and his law credentials. I learnt so very much that evening that I almost felt part of the family. Meanwhile, Father and Daughter’s American seatmate launched into advice about which colleges were better than others and why, how many times she’d been published since gaining her doctorate in Art History before categorising her favourite Parisian museums in order of preference. This time my i-Pod was already firmly wedged into my ears but I still didn’t manage to miss anything in spite of trying to drown out the happy party with music. Don’t even think about trying to read with that sort of conversation blabbering on next to you. In fact, most of the carriage could probably divulge facts about the Ivy League that they’d never known before. That night, we couldn’t get to London quickly enough.

A different source of frustration when travelling Eurostar has to be queuing to clear customs at the Gare du Nord. The French and UK double-act of officials is arranged in a mess of booths and columns that interrupt the flow of passenger traffic. The Brits huff and puff as they try to negotiate a strategic spot in the line, generally losing out to our Continental Cousins who were taught in infancy how to leap-frog their way through obstructions with a dismissive pout and shrug towards anyone in their way. My new attitude? If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Outta my way!

However, I have to admit that when lucky enough to be on the train in a quiet carriage, it is complete and utter bliss. Years after its inaugural trip through the Chunnel, there’s still something quite magical about travelling under La Manche in a sleek Eurostar train, green English countryside on one side and French fields on the other. Arriving at the Gare du Nord with Sacre Coeur’s white dome glinting in the distance never fails to bring a smile. The swiftness with which we are transported from one country to another, without the hassle of getting to or from an airport with added check-in times, security hassles and baggage claim is yet another bonus. And because food is so important to France, even a French catering strike won’t prevent the company from feeding you. They just arrange for extra provisions to be picked up in England.

In order to capitalise on the enjoyable experience that Eurostar can be, I’ve come up with a few rules. 1. Bring earplugs. 2. Make sure i-Pod is fully charged before travel. 3. Pack Kalms in case I need assistance with my planned snooze. 

For those less considerate passengers among us, a few suggestions: 1. Kindly use all electronic devices with headphones. 2. Avoid stinky food and please don’t pack it. 3. Train your children not to disrupt fellow passengers, especially if they can sing. 4. Turn your Crazy Frog ringtone OFF and 5. Take your loud conversations to the bar carriage. I really don’t care what colour you paint your fence or what new wonder product your housekeeper is using. Some people just want peace… 

The London Dunder-ground

One of the pleasures of living in London has to be adventures on the public transport system. I’ve decided to keep a log of how many times I am delayed on the tube and the creative excuses that come over the tannoy… Do check for my updates because you know they’ll be frequent!

July 2008: I’m resigned to the fact that the H&C line is never going to be the quickest line in the world, but my annoyance has now shifted to the ongoing Oyster card fiasco. Due to a recent crash of the Oyster system, many commuters were left with useless cards as the system had wiped them. That’s bad enough and I count myself lucky not to have been affected, however, I haven’t escaped completely unscathed. On three occasions recently, I have touched in and out as usual on my way to or from work, only to note at my destination that a total of £4.00 has been deducted for a single journey. One morning, I was running late for work. I touched in and touched out for the first part of my trip and then had to touch in again at the H&C line. Having had £12.50 on my card when I left home, I now had £0.50. I argued with the tube supervisor who insisted I top up and then walk back to the first line to ask for a refund. I chose to do this when I got to my destination, instead. “We can’t refund you that money. You didn’t touch in and out properly,” came the surly response. “Well, I can assure you I did  , and I know that you can refund my money, so I will stand here until you find a way. No London tube ride should cost £12.00!” I was incensed. The manager was summoned to show the grumpy ticket person how to give me my money back, so I was refunded after all, but a few days later, another £4.00 was deducted from my card. This time, the (different) ticket person refunded it without a quibble. I can only say that this has taught me to watch how much is coming off my card each time I use it. Thank heavens I use the pay-as-you-go approach to top up. Otherwise I might never have noticed how much money was going down the Big Tube Drain.

 

1 April 2008 Yet another fire alert at Paddington, just as I got there. How many can that be in the past few weeks, I wonder. I was in no fit state to be delayed on the way home. A bug makes me feel as if I’m going to throw up all the time (and sometimes I do just that) so in the best interests of London’s unwitting commuters, I had to get home fast to avoid spraying projectile nasties all over them.

I walked to the bus stop. My bus didn’t even feature on the display board which had filled up with 8 other buses due between now and 12 minutes’ time. I walked to another main road, hoping to jump on a bus there, but 4 suitable buses went straight past the stop; they were already full. So I had to grab a cab, again. I simply did not have the strength to walk.

I’ve worked out that London Underground owes me about £12.50 in unnecessary cab journeys for the past two fire alerts. When it gets to £20 I might just submit a claim. And that doesn’t count the wasted deductions from my Oyster Card when I can’t even get all the way home. Grrrrr.

25 March 2008: Severe delays on H&C line due to a signal failure. Got to work 15 minutes late, which isn’t too bad, but a colleague arrived 45 minutes after me as the line had then been suspended completely. Ah, the joys of the Hot and Cold line, as I’ve heard it called. When it works, it’s fast. When it doesn’t, it’s hell.

20 March 2008: Should not have spoken so soon yesterday! On my way back from work was thrown off the train one stop from home. Tried to walk but then thought better of it because this involves taking a long, dark underpass which is scary enough by day. Waited for a bus. The next one was 12 minutes away. As it started to rain I managed to hail a cab and the driver told me that the guy he’d just dropped off was going to see his brother who’d just been diagnosed with MS. That sort of thing puts travel issues in perspective.

19 March 2008: Early Easter means early holidays. Immediately it becomes easier to get a seat on the train and the trains seem to be more frequent. Haven’t written much about the Dunderground recently because I’ve only experienced boring situations that are sadly repetitive. 20 minutes for train to arrive. Sit freezing with book on platform because by the time I try a different route, I might as well have stayed still. Train stuck in tunnel. No one talking. The only sounds are someone’s hand rustling in their crisp packet and a man turning the pages of his free evening paper. That sort of thing. No drama is good news. Will write more when the tube returns to its normal, frustrating self.

18 February 2008: A.M. Severe delays on Hammersmith and City Line. Wait for about 10 minutes for a train (this is quite normal) until the tannoy says the next train won’t be there for another 20 minutes. I decide on alternative routes and walk across the station to the Circle and District lines. Their tannoy says that there are severe delays on the Circle line, with the helpful suggestion that passengers make their way to the H&C line. Hmmm. Someone isn’t so bright up there in the control room. Meanwhile, a muezzin call sounds above the platform. Quite a surreal experience. 30 minutes late for work

4 February 2008: A.M. Waited for 16 minutes for a Hammersmith and City Line train. This is normal, but makes me think I should be walking, not wasting precious time this way. Can’t wait for the weather to improve so I can start walking to work again.