Longest days
It's a sad thing to report that Eurostar's First Class Service - isn't. It was my unfortunate duty to travel using this once-honourable provider from Lille to London this afternoon, and a sad pall lies over the experience...
By way of background, I'd like to let you know that I'd been attending a conference at EuroDisney, a piece of the Great American Dream transplanted holus-bolus into the Seine-et-Marne area. It is as though one has gone through some sort of warp, into a place populated largely by ankle-biters on full volume, and their parents (the manners of whom have been left back at the station). And the Disney food is just as one expects, allow me to say in lowering tones; and the level of service isn't, either.
I do need to mention the Lucullan Lunches; the food we were treated to was a masterpiece of the Chef's art, and for a moment one was transported back to France (where one belonged!) - However, this was arranged by the FAF who arranged the conference, so it doesn't redound to Disney's credit.
So after three days of hard work in a strange environment, I was looking forward to a comfortable journey home. Ha!
On returning to one's happy abode, one expects to be pleaseder, the more miles one covers. Well, this worked okay on the TGV from Marne-La-Vallée/Chessy to Lille; the train was clean, the facilities work, and all that. The two nappy-changing parents weren't all that awful, and the folks carrying the very chatty cats in the bags, they were okay too...
But once one arrives at Lille, all changes. That's a horrible station! And when you line up to get on the Eurostar, the folks seem to enjoy making you wait, and then being officious, and then making you snake through bits of the station that are really too skinny to be called thoroughfares, and then you arrive at the Eurostar.
It's the Disney train, so I suppose one could forgive the FIRST CLASS carriage looking distinctly second-hand - stained carpet, dents in the doors, all that.
And certainly the hydraulic lift to assist the gentleman in the wheelchair to board was a fine interesting piece of machinery. It's a shame there didn't seem to be any co-ordination between the station staffer with the hydraulic lifter, the on-board staff whose job it is to look after passengers, and the driver who was dancing up and down trying to get out on time. So there was a large group of people who just wanted to board, who couldn't get on, and who were worried that the train would go without them.
So what happened: the rest of us first-class passengers who had been delayed in boarding were now chivvied (rudely) down to board at the next carriage. An officious Type in a uniform came barrelling down the platform, gesticulating wildly, as if it was all our fault (and as if we were naughty, and needed shoving into line). Not appreciated, Guillaume - that was nasty.
Having negotiated the length of that other carriage, and finally attaching one's suitcase to the rack safely (my only ever loss of a suitcase was on Eurostar, so now I always bike-lock my case to the rack), one sought one's seat. Alas, more anklebiters...and the power-plugs in the whole carriage were out, so no using laptop; and then they bolted in with the meal and pinned us all in our seats; for what?
Airline chicken!
I noted that the young person delivering the hot part of the meal managed to be polite to about half the people he delivered to (I was in the other half); I managed to avoid having him slop some unidentified Thing onto my try by dint of crossing my arms over the tray, to allow me to ask him: no other choice tonight? There is usually a menu in First Class, and two dishes to choose from - we got one. Too bad if you were a Vego, eh. And the quality...
A slab of boiled chicken, skin still on, topped with some unnameable tomato mush, is *not* the sort of food I expect from France. The food coming out from the UK was orders of magnitude better! *And* it was served politely, and we weren't made to feel like cattle, or as though we were getting in the way of the staff doing their job.
Now, this is not good enough, Eurostar. The service, the level of previous planning (not a lot!), and the courageous inhibition that seems to somehow turn your staff blind when one of your passengers is being harrassed and irritated by the child(ren) of another passenger, bounding along the aisle using everyone's armrests as springboards...
Perhaps it would be better to fly? Maybe TGV or ICE would like to apply for the Chunnel concession? Anyway, guess who won't be trying First on Eurostar, ever again!
By way of background, I'd like to let you know that I'd been attending a conference at EuroDisney, a piece of the Great American Dream transplanted holus-bolus into the Seine-et-Marne area. It is as though one has gone through some sort of warp, into a place populated largely by ankle-biters on full volume, and their parents (the manners of whom have been left back at the station). And the Disney food is just as one expects, allow me to say in lowering tones; and the level of service isn't, either.
I do need to mention the Lucullan Lunches; the food we were treated to was a masterpiece of the Chef's art, and for a moment one was transported back to France (where one belonged!) - However, this was arranged by the FAF who arranged the conference, so it doesn't redound to Disney's credit.
So after three days of hard work in a strange environment, I was looking forward to a comfortable journey home. Ha!
On returning to one's happy abode, one expects to be pleaseder, the more miles one covers. Well, this worked okay on the TGV from Marne-La-Vallée/Chessy to Lille; the train was clean, the facilities work, and all that. The two nappy-changing parents weren't all that awful, and the folks carrying the very chatty cats in the bags, they were okay too...
But once one arrives at Lille, all changes. That's a horrible station! And when you line up to get on the Eurostar, the folks seem to enjoy making you wait, and then being officious, and then making you snake through bits of the station that are really too skinny to be called thoroughfares, and then you arrive at the Eurostar.
It's the Disney train, so I suppose one could forgive the FIRST CLASS carriage looking distinctly second-hand - stained carpet, dents in the doors, all that.
And certainly the hydraulic lift to assist the gentleman in the wheelchair to board was a fine interesting piece of machinery. It's a shame there didn't seem to be any co-ordination between the station staffer with the hydraulic lifter, the on-board staff whose job it is to look after passengers, and the driver who was dancing up and down trying to get out on time. So there was a large group of people who just wanted to board, who couldn't get on, and who were worried that the train would go without them.
So what happened: the rest of us first-class passengers who had been delayed in boarding were now chivvied (rudely) down to board at the next carriage. An officious Type in a uniform came barrelling down the platform, gesticulating wildly, as if it was all our fault (and as if we were naughty, and needed shoving into line). Not appreciated, Guillaume - that was nasty.
Having negotiated the length of that other carriage, and finally attaching one's suitcase to the rack safely (my only ever loss of a suitcase was on Eurostar, so now I always bike-lock my case to the rack), one sought one's seat. Alas, more anklebiters...and the power-plugs in the whole carriage were out, so no using laptop; and then they bolted in with the meal and pinned us all in our seats; for what?
Airline chicken!
I noted that the young person delivering the hot part of the meal managed to be polite to about half the people he delivered to (I was in the other half); I managed to avoid having him slop some unidentified Thing onto my try by dint of crossing my arms over the tray, to allow me to ask him: no other choice tonight? There is usually a menu in First Class, and two dishes to choose from - we got one. Too bad if you were a Vego, eh. And the quality...
A slab of boiled chicken, skin still on, topped with some unnameable tomato mush, is *not* the sort of food I expect from France. The food coming out from the UK was orders of magnitude better! *And* it was served politely, and we weren't made to feel like cattle, or as though we were getting in the way of the staff doing their job.
Now, this is not good enough, Eurostar. The service, the level of previous planning (not a lot!), and the courageous inhibition that seems to somehow turn your staff blind when one of your passengers is being harrassed and irritated by the child(ren) of another passenger, bounding along the aisle using everyone's armrests as springboards...
Perhaps it would be better to fly? Maybe TGV or ICE would like to apply for the Chunnel concession? Anyway, guess who won't be trying First on Eurostar, ever again!