Connections, Politics & Greed

I saw on the news this morning that a Frenchman is hanging about on the south coast. How did that make the news you might ask. Simple, he’s waiting for a windless day. Hardly earth shattering, but that’s the BBC for you – if it’s a minority issue they’re there in a flash. I often look out of my window and think how nice it would be if it was windless but I’m not sufficiently minority enough to warrant a film crew.

            With this story involving Johnny French I naturally assumed a EU corruption angle, but no. This Frenchman, who speaks perfect English by the way, is attempting to cross the Channel on a pedal powered airship. So I find myself having something in common with him. Not airships, silly, channel crossings.

            The whole purpose of my trip is to travel by train; it’s a revenge thing (see previous Blog entries). I want to get my Februarys back. But, over a week ago fire in the tunnel, which must still be smouldering, has potentially put the kibosh on my first leg. If I don’t start my journey from Farnborough it will be like starting the 110 metre hurdles after the first hurdle. It will also necessitate a re-think on the book title. People might question my integrity if the 06.58 from Farnborough to Bangkok starts in Moscow. And it might.

            The story is one of connections, politics and greed. I have to be in Brussels at 16.30 on Monday so that I don’t miss my connection to Cologne, which in turn means I don’t miss my onward journey to Moscow. OK, that’s cleared up the connection issues, but politics? Yes, it’s the bloody EU again, I knew we should have voted no. The nerve centre of this money-swallowing machine is in Brussels so every pinstriped, matching tie and hanky, grey haired, freeloader MEP and entourage (for that read family) have to be there on Monday. The world’s media have to be there to report on all the corruption, so added together this makes Brussels a busy place.

            Normally all these freeloading buffoons spend their expenses in the buffet car of the Eurostar, now they’re diverting to the airlines. Enter greed. I enquired about a flight as an insurance policy if my train fails to leave St Pancras. The cheapest one-way ticket was a whopping £250.

            ‘250 quid! I don’t need a private jet, economy next to a fat person will do just fine.’

            Sorry, mate, that’s the best we can offer. Normally it’d be about £80 but the restricted Eurostar has rather hiked up the price,’ said a chirpy, commission earning telesales operator at Cheap Flights (read my previous Blog entry on not quite getting your advertising right)

            ‘Bloody hell, I’ll have to think about that.’

            ‘I’d take that now if I was you Sir, the price changes as the seat availability drops. Its already gone up £40 in the last hour.’

            Naturally, out of principle I declined his offer, oh and a lack of funds, but it was mainly principle you understand.

            I looked at other options, out of principle. Ah, ah, what about a train from Calais. I could scoot down to Dover, hop on the ferry. On Monday, ignoring the, ‘how do I get to Dover in time’ conundrum I would have to be sitting on Calais’s main station, ticket in hand, at 11 am, and be prepared for 4 changes. That’s four potentially missed connections. And that would only get me to Lille. Tricky.

            I rang my mate Stefan at Deutsche Bahn (use this company if you ever travel by train in Europe, they’re brilliant).

            ‘OK, Mike, I think better you get to St Pancras very early. There will be some trains, and yours is an open ticket. Its first come first served. If you get in the queue early enough…’

            ‘Queue? Do you know how bad the British are at queuing Stefan?’

            ‘You think fight, pushing?’

            I was going to tell him about the tutting and eyebrow raising but figured it would be lost in translation.

            ‘OK, I’ll try that.’

            ‘What fighting?’

            ‘No, queuing.’

            ‘Ah, OK, good luck my friend, ring me if you have problem.’

            Leaving aside I have a new German friend, and the contrast between the services his German Company provides compared to Eurostar – ‘you just have to turn up early Sir, we can’t guarantee anything’ – I’m in the lap of the Gods.

            But that’s travel for you, as unpredictable as the weather. Which brings me back to that Frenchman’s airship. I wonder if he has a spare seat?

 

This will be my last entry for a few days. The next time I write, I will hopefully, be in Moscow. Please keep coming back periodically as I’ll be updating as regularly as I can. Tally Ho!