We’ve just come back from Paris. More on that later, maybe. But for now: Eurostar. The great white hope for travel. The antidote to low cost airlines and shopping-centre airports. The easy, convenient, fast, comfortable and above all pleasant, way to get to Europe. Well, you’ll be surprised to hear that yet again the emperor is utterly naked.
First, St Pancras Station is quite impressively refitted. Clean, modern, spacious. It’s just a shame the centrepiece sculpture is so utterly foul and much too big, and you can’t see the magnificent original building for the glass’n’steel. But what do you expect from modern architecture? It’s exactly 26.8% better than any other train station, so that’s ok. Then it all starts to go wrong…
What do you most hate about flying? Queues? Intrusive security screening? Taking your bag and coat off and emptying your pockets of loose change to go through the beepy arch? Check! All present and correct for train travel too.
What the hell for? The last time I checked, you could easily get on the ferry or take your car through the tunnel without having your luggage x-rayed or your passports scrutinised. Why on earth do you need it for Eurostar? You can also travel to and fro between Germany, France, Belgium etc by car or train without any interrogation. Even before the EU, we once went by train between Poland and Hungary and all that happened was a quick check of the passport. Within the EU we should be free to move around at will.
But that’s not really the point: We can travel to Europe already by car without the metaphorical finger-up-the-bum!
The tickets say check in 30 minutes before. Granted, Thursday night was very busy with all trains full. But 30 minutes was too short, and the rude and unpleasant staff had to call through the people who were about to miss their trains. So they clearly can’t check in busy trains in 30 minutes – but asking for an hour check in would, of course, damage their “fast” branded marketing.
I wanted to like it, but it was only convenient for me as I was already in London on departure day. For Penny and for both of us getting home, Gatwick would’ve been quicker. Convenience drops off as soon as you live outside London or away from Ebbsfleet.
On top of all that, the legroom on the trains was pitiful and the seats uncomfortable.
So, I sat in the departure lounge grumpy at queuing for security and feeling like a terrorist, I sat on the train with knees in the back of someone else. Sounds just like a cheap flight, only without the ‘cheap’ bit.
Next time, I won’t bother. Flying is no less unpleasant, not any more time consuming, and at least the departure lounges have semi-decent food. And as someone paranoid about their carbon footprint, I never thought I’d say that…
