Wednesday 16th September
Another day of travel, today more intensive that yesterday though. To get us started we again had breakfast of rolls, croissant and coffee at the Hotel Victoria, before heading back to Hotel Euler to finish packing and checking out.
Our train to Strasbourg leaves at 09:21 so we allow plenty of time to walk the 100 metres from our hotel to the station. We arrive at the station to see that the earlier train (08:51) to Strasbourg has been cancelled; not a good start. We do a little shopping for 'thank you gifts' and recheck the departure board. Good news, the 09:21 to Strasbourg is listed and departs from platform 31. The layout of Basel Station is similar to Reading in that there is a concourse above the platforms that runs across all the platforms (unlike Reading though it has many bustling shops and cafes). The escalators to the upper concourse are off a ground level concourse, and once on the upper concourse the platforms start at 1. Jo and I walked to the far end of the upper concourse and were mildly alarmed that it finished at platform 20.... Having turned around, we then spotted signs to platforms 30-31, directing us right back to where we started on the ground floor concourse and through another arcade with shops (and the chocolate shop) to a couple of deserted looking platforms. Here we found platform 31. I think the reasoning for this is that these two platforms are used to operate SNCF 'local' trains, whereas the rest of the station is used by Swiss railways (SBB) or TGV trains from France (and Germany?)
All trains and cable-cars we used in Switzerland (and indeed the TGV from Paris to Basel) were accurate to the minute, if not the second. No wonder the Swiss decided to have platforms 30 and 31 for SNCF, well away from their operations - our train to Strasbourg, that should have departed at 09:21 didn't leave until 09:31. Considering the connection time for the TGV from Strasbourg to Paris was 10 minutes this didn't fill me with confidence that we would make the connection. In the event I need not have worried, the French held the TGV at Strasbourg. It did, of course, arrive late in Paris, but knowing we had, in theory, 2 hours to catch the Eurostar I wasn't too stressed.
We arrived in Paris at Gare de l'Est, which fortunately is only a 10-minute walk from Gare du Nord - if one knows the way. It's marginally longer if you don't!
When we arrived at Gare du Nord, I noticed that the queues were open for our departure at 14:31. Although I was under some pressure to stop and buy lunch before joining the queue, I asked whether we could buy food once through customs and was assured we could.
The system for separating the sheep from the goats, and the llamas, at Gare du Nord is not straightforward. Being British, but not EU, or any other nationality we were directed to a set of gates for UK passport holders. For unknown reasons the automatic passport reader did not like either Jo or her passport. The person before Jo also had problems with the same gate so I cannot blame Jo entirely. We were then directed back to join the goats and the llamas. The goats (with EU passports) were fast-tracked down one queue leaving us with the llamas. Eventually we got to the front of the queue where an extremely laid-back lady, constantly looking at her phone, gave us instructions on having our photographs and fingerprints taken before finally letting us through. Thus, we got to experience the wonderful EES system - at least they know we've left, but I wonder if we will have to go through the same palaver if we ever re-enter the EU (Schengen area) again.
Now for the next queue, security. Only a few people in front of us, so not too bad. However, at the last minute, having put my watch, car keys etc. into my rucksack I remember my phone also needs to be screened, so I rush to put it in the rucksack. Through security and we find a quiet spot about 25 metres away to get the personal possessions out of our rucksacks. Watch - tick, car keys - tick, phone - ??? Where is it? After an alarming few minutes while I empty and repack the rucksack, I am forced to only one conclusion - it's lost or stolen, although I don't recall anyone other than Jo being near me whilst I dealt with my phone. Another check and I still cannot find it. Whilst I recheck yet again Jo goes back to security to see if it has been found/handed in. I wasn't there, but Jo tells me the security person who had the problem foisted on him was really helpful, unstacking trays and checking them (I guess this might be a common occurrence). Meanwhile, thank heavens, I eventually found my phone!
Panic over, and we can concentrate on getting lunch. Inevitably while we were in the queue at Paul Patisserie the announcement that we can board the train is made. Jo was not to be denied lunch, so we continued to queue. In truth we were now right at the front. One custard tart, one tart au citron and a cup of coffee and we were away. Have you ever tried juggling a heavy suitcase, a rucksack, and lunch (the tarts were in boxes, but not a carrier) whilst battling with hundreds of other people, also overburdened with suitcases, to find a spot to store the suitcases and find the correct seats? Not easy! But we managed it with the tarts intact and the coffee unspilt.
I am told I had a snooze for most of the journey to St Pancras...
The only other incident of note was that we just managed to buy tickets at Paddington and get on an equally crowded train to Charlbury. Jo and I had adjacent seats either side of the corridor. I sat next to a young lady who briefly suspended her telephone conversation and and reluctantly removed her shopping from the seat I wanted to sit in and put them in my footwell. I should been put on alert at this point. She continued her conversation, fortunately quite quietly, in either Spanish or Portuguese. A ticket inspector who had very slowly been making his way up the carriage asked to see our tickets. The young lady showed hers, but the inspector wanted to see her student railcard - which of course she didn't have, instead producing a University of Bath Spa pass. When this went down like a lead balloon, she then scrolled though her phone 'looking' for the railcard she patently didn't possess. In the end the inspector obtained the woman's address (good luck with that) and said she would receive a letter. While she was scrolling through her phone, she appeared to have a ticket app that I was not familiar with, but by the looks of things it appeared to me that this was a 'trick' she had used many times before. At least this incident kept me amused until Reading.
Back to Charlbury to pick up the car from De's, home and unpacking...