Blog Tracker
19-03-2023, 21:41
Visit the Paul Bailey's Beer Blog site (https://baileysbeerblog.blogspot.com/2023/03/cross-channel-drama-or-joys-of.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemrs2BfU3jS28hnCfvshqX1W9NYuKXhlty5iXM3bmYo ncCq66xuFNcEsOTlHhg-O5HV7f3dt1OKuU1LdOsy0Nf3HH3fT8D7nUDqwoWv_mZu-Vz5DI8RTeQWjwNtZ2nesgYFXdyOx2NxWBaoIxeDQlQlrX8Q96b eCj0OKn5K1IrIkvyvcTs9uveViL/w400-h225/St%20Pancras%20dept.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemrs2BfU3jS28hnCfvshqX1W9NYuKXhlty5iXM3bmYo ncCq66xuFNcEsOTlHhg-O5HV7f3dt1OKuU1LdOsy0Nf3HH3fT8D7nUDqwoWv_mZu-Vz5DI8RTeQWjwNtZ2nesgYFXdyOx2NxWBaoIxeDQlQlrX8Q96b eCj0OKn5K1IrIkvyvcTs9uveViL/s4000/St%20Pancras%20dept.jpg)
I arrived back from Cologne late on Friday nightsometime around half eleven. It was quite a hectic journey, which was perhaps only to be expected when travelling on a Friday afternoon. Still the choice was not my own, as the travel arrangements were designed to allow for maximum cover on our trade stand, at IDS. My two colleagues and I boarded the 16.44 Thalys service to Paris, calling at various destinations en route, such as Aachen, and Liege before arriving at Brussels, where we would leave the rain to await the evening Eurostar service to London.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeiQW2RG1CoCh8HVXB9bIDSInapMsvGS-Bf-ZlkRZR2qHDwDcB8rAiytCp4ygRqDUBmVCm2OkYVj_E0gRrLCDT E6-0gxgoXoZmaqkJK3jqtn_fLUz7CSCsvKDpEuUGYz4ZbrkHaz8-KLd5uuPT_b6ML2Yq8iY9JA5fJnIMa4N3aROqwP4EaaGp57k/w400-h225/IMG_20230313_173537.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeiQW2RG1CoCh8HVXB9bIDSInapMsvGS-Bf-ZlkRZR2qHDwDcB8rAiytCp4ygRqDUBmVCm2OkYVj_E0gRrLCDT E6-0gxgoXoZmaqkJK3jqtn_fLUz7CSCsvKDpEuUGYz4ZbrkHaz8-KLd5uuPT_b6ML2Yq8iY9JA5fJnIMa4N3aROqwP4EaaGp57k/s4000/IMG_20230313_173537.jpg)
As we stood on the platform, we couldn’t help noticing the large number of fellow passengers standing on the platform, waiting to board. Our French Operations Manager, who was travelling with us, observed that her fellow countrymen made up the majority of passengers, which was unsurprising really, considering the final destination of the train. It was a bit of a melee trying to get on board, with our suitcases and rucksacks, as whilst we tried travelling as lightly as possible, this wasn’t easy considering the nature of our business in Cologne.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVtQb_1Gunr8BCSoBZWgqIRsxcZexaPlIzlCep91lxa RBZHQxE_tqMB3CbphZ_G2dzisDklHzJNbPdPotnvUyof7nH_a4 xr80Z8NLeYpUgC3iZZgTSCsd-Zkaab0Lh5VIN3VmPQbqo9mPZX1VjFCsCQWkvtXHh47SHZXsVyE JfjUJTk9hPkf0Wy0M/w400-h225/IMG_20230317_185513.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVtQb_1Gunr8BCSoBZWgqIRsxcZexaPlIzlCep91lxa RBZHQxE_tqMB3CbphZ_G2dzisDklHzJNbPdPotnvUyof7nH_a4 xr80Z8NLeYpUgC3iZZgTSCsd-Zkaab0Lh5VIN3VmPQbqo9mPZX1VjFCsCQWkvtXHh47SHZXsVyE JfjUJTk9hPkf0Wy0M/s4000/IMG_20230317_185513.jpg)
When attending a trade show you obviously need to dress the part, which means business suit, several shirts, and suitable shoes, along with something more casual to wear in the evenings. There was no need to panic though, and we managed to struggle on board in spite of the excess baggage we were carrying. Once seated, we settled down to enjoy the journey west, crossing from North Rhine-Westphalia and into Belgium, shortly after the city of Aachen, or Aix-le Chapelle as the French call it. Once in Brussels, there was time do a little shopping, and to grab a bite to eat, in the form of a slice of pizza, plus a can of Jupiler. It wasn’t exactly a feast but was sufficient to deal with any nagging hunger pangs.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4YY9NGfphRujS_cce5ZtaP9FPNo72pteFYxJAipG-qTkmeMA2P7bnLzB-tISHj4W9bnrhzNXai6PZiZ_e2d00igwwsMo6rmYJconezJt6Ss a71VeDHgU1JgT_EcI1WmRyUVxifwmuRlBstB6_XAzH-DB9g2C56EejW26Owt05UXkA2jh-VzbWBR2/w400-h225/IMG_20230313_162114.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4YY9NGfphRujS_cce5ZtaP9FPNo72pteFYxJAipG-qTkmeMA2P7bnLzB-tISHj4W9bnrhzNXai6PZiZ_e2d00igwwsMo6rmYJconezJt6Ss a71VeDHgU1JgT_EcI1WmRyUVxifwmuRlBstB6_XAzH-DB9g2C56EejW26Owt05UXkA2jh-VzbWBR2/s4000/IMG_20230313_162114.jpg)
Unlike the outward journey, we didn't leave the station, but on the way out, I journeyed with a different colleague who, like me, enjoys the occasional beer. We both thought it a good idea to find a place where we could enjoy a glass or two, but despite Bruxelles-Midi station being packed with plenty of shops and fast-food outlets, there didn’t seem to be any bars. Rather strange for Belgium, we thought, so after being forced to go outside, we found a rather pleasant looking bar, called Cafe SAS, just across the road. My companion isn’t a lover of strong beers, so she sensibly opted for small glass of Jupiler, Belgium’s best-selling lager. I, on the other hand, decided to be bold, or perhaps foolhardy, and chose a Westmalle Tripel (in a proper glass, of course), forgetting the fact that it was 9.2% abv.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHIN2NdZXa98dapLx9YZKe3fDdvkppXjy5zGoqPx95K ncuK95P_ee4zshujLpvCvWeCx8_2hnV6F4GtTx1Do14IGEKOV4 5LdI9EmCJ0iow5AC5beevivEMKE_y6GNTEEEtQ0h9ee8J3QMKs y5wqTrS6W-sl9cXvHz_iBVEPpw-p5O7nyAc6lfxMFP/w400-h225/IMG_20230313_164518.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHIN2NdZXa98dapLx9YZKe3fDdvkppXjy5zGoqPx95K ncuK95P_ee4zshujLpvCvWeCx8_2hnV6F4GtTx1Do14IGEKOV4 5LdI9EmCJ0iow5AC5beevivEMKE_y6GNTEEEtQ0h9ee8J3QMKs y5wqTrS6W-sl9cXvHz_iBVEPpw-p5O7nyAc6lfxMFP/s4000/IMG_20230313_164518.jpg)
Despite thinking we’d left sufficient time to board our train, we literally made it by the skin of our teeth. The waitress had disappeared, which meant seeking her out in order to pay the bill, then we discovered our Thalys train would be boarding from platform 4, and the platform numbering at the southern entrance, began at No. 22! It was a heart-stopping moment, as we raced through the concourse, but one I should have been better prepared for – always pay the bill Paul, as soon as you receive the drinks!!
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWt4l9sjU2Y7v1119hl38zam-T2fSEz9zFyNAmqgco8A0xR5QDQlTYo2qykbKfInXYckCYbK0d6 vw4rZjPYg2dElKyPa3GwcnNk1-ZEXEdvfEbupD5epOpizoX9c6amdmq_XYHq59ljwKwaqOvWpU7L 67XcGZFCUJwmijC0lB9lxvRQIYk-QesVxa/w225-h400/Westmalle%20Tripel.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWt4l9sjU2Y7v1119hl38zam-T2fSEz9zFyNAmqgco8A0xR5QDQlTYo2qykbKfInXYckCYbK0d6 vw4rZjPYg2dElKyPa3GwcnNk1-ZEXEdvfEbupD5epOpizoX9c6amdmq_XYHq59ljwKwaqOvWpU7L 67XcGZFCUJwmijC0lB9lxvRQIYk-QesVxa/s3891/Westmalle%20Tripel.jpg)
I enjoyed the outward second leg of the journey, perhaps due to the strong Trappist beer, I’d just enjoyed, but the good progress we were making, was marred by a 20 minute delay, on the western approach to Cologne. Alighting from the train, and walking toward our hotel, we found the Rhine-Land city to be pretty much as we remembered it, although there was a noticeable police and security presence around the station. There had been amass-shooting incident in Hamburg,the week before, so this may have accounted for the visible show of force. Returning to the homeward journey, and the check-in process and security scans at Brussels, prior to boarding the Eurostar. The latter was OK, apart from having to remove my belt, but with no limit on liquids, the process was much quicker than at airports. Border control was the next hurdle, and it struck us all as absurd to have two sets of customs officers just yards apart. First were the Belgian Border Force staff, who at least stamped our passports, but this was followed by the UK Border Force booth, literally a stone throws away. I must say that the staff at both control points were helpful, and in the case of the UK staff possessing a sense of humour. This was because, yet again, the facial recognition software at the automatic barriers, didn’t recognise yours truly! It took some human intervention to allow me to pass through the barrier, although I not alone, as my French colleague had exactly the same issue.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ_OHGc-JFCqyhgZydCZc9ZIjtpHSvL6LTRcvShBH7m_FcYQt56A-jJFzFbN7SEI7N0Kn41OHMTOhnuhvrswpRtoWNEDGnOX6r-nAdv4wlaer7O4JMhmtFq_2fLgkV31vTIJLph-dbGMFg1HOLhE570Pilis5mqLYAowF-uV9yPTwGGJ3cso1k7XXr/w400-h225/SAS%20Bar.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ_OHGc-JFCqyhgZydCZc9ZIjtpHSvL6LTRcvShBH7m_FcYQt56A-jJFzFbN7SEI7N0Kn41OHMTOhnuhvrswpRtoWNEDGnOX6r-nAdv4wlaer7O4JMhmtFq_2fLgkV31vTIJLph-dbGMFg1HOLhE570Pilis5mqLYAowF-uV9yPTwGGJ3cso1k7XXr/s1218/SAS%20Bar.jpg)
If we thought the Thalys train was crowded, the Eurostar was doubly so. I also thought the train carriage itself was ergonomically poorly designed, because having deposited my heavy suitcase in the designated area close to the entrance, I then had to walk the entire length of the coach to find my seat. I could just envisage the ensuing chaos come disembarkation time at London St.Pancras, and I was right. I did the sensible thing by jumping off and walking back along the platform, to the area where the luggage was stowed.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LyWjyJcpY5igKMrx0Qu_Ep8JlCs-Wo0kSF8GmI4J9BrEb_dS4Pxn4odjUTUIMOYnCaC5XBE8NRBS70 dQXVDTTxhafQb9-lHRNB-_9dgC6ebCJbbf6tAGNUZXxtC1lT3q4BRENz9OtWtDMUi6VaJrx 88bUbpUNS8YcNL0yLTcWP0jq1C5PlQph3kg/w400-h225/Koln%20Deutz.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LyWjyJcpY5igKMrx0Qu_Ep8JlCs-Wo0kSF8GmI4J9BrEb_dS4Pxn4odjUTUIMOYnCaC5XBE8NRBS70 dQXVDTTxhafQb9-lHRNB-_9dgC6ebCJbbf6tAGNUZXxtC1lT3q4BRENz9OtWtDMUi6VaJrx 88bUbpUNS8YcNL0yLTcWP0jq1C5PlQph3kg/s4000/Koln%20Deutz.jpg)
There was some uncertainty when we arrived at St Pancras, as to whether the domestic trains would be running, as with a strike by RMTmembers scheduled for the following day, the thought was that services might start running down, prior to the scheduled walkout at midnight. Fortunately, this wasn’t the case, and despite the hordes of people, the three of us made it down to the Thameslink platforms in good time. We then took a southbound train, with my English colleague and I alighting at London Bridge, leaving our French staff member to travel on to East Croydon. She could then pick up a more local train to her home on the Kent-Sussex border.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pIyDMcAuKdaBdtEdAt8SeZ0TbG1liyO80RDlJq24Gu XLpJVFg4lXmNF_hm3byT1X5F7blDLqva0tHxm6w8sj4ttlFVh8 _08paM_MgV-uGqXMpvrnZiMVEIpJVQa6rFkRQn93nQF5ypl1JY9i3pgONtlx6 ZcQ69YH6PVCdN5IdUUp6pp1TYCH-X4p/w400-h225/Yormas.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pIyDMcAuKdaBdtEdAt8SeZ0TbG1liyO80RDlJq24Gu XLpJVFg4lXmNF_hm3byT1X5F7blDLqva0tHxm6w8sj4ttlFVh8 _08paM_MgV-uGqXMpvrnZiMVEIpJVQa6rFkRQn93nQF5ypl1JY9i3pgONtlx6 ZcQ69YH6PVCdN5IdUUp6pp1TYCH-X4p/s4000/Yormas.jpg)
Alighting at London Bridge the two of us hastily switched platforms, and boarded a Tonbridge bound train, where my colleague’s wife was waiting in the car. She kindly gave me a lift home, which saved waiting for a taxi, and by 11.30 pm I was walking through my own front door, gagging for a proper cup of tea! So, four high-speed train journeys in total, some pleasant scenery, comfortable seats, plus the drama of nearly missing a connection and making ourselves look stupid, but all in a day’s work, and fortunately no real harm done! Follow Blog via EmailClick to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
More... (https://baileysbeerblog.blogspot.com/2023/03/cross-channel-drama-or-joys-of.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemrs2BfU3jS28hnCfvshqX1W9NYuKXhlty5iXM3bmYo ncCq66xuFNcEsOTlHhg-O5HV7f3dt1OKuU1LdOsy0Nf3HH3fT8D7nUDqwoWv_mZu-Vz5DI8RTeQWjwNtZ2nesgYFXdyOx2NxWBaoIxeDQlQlrX8Q96b eCj0OKn5K1IrIkvyvcTs9uveViL/w400-h225/St%20Pancras%20dept.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemrs2BfU3jS28hnCfvshqX1W9NYuKXhlty5iXM3bmYo ncCq66xuFNcEsOTlHhg-O5HV7f3dt1OKuU1LdOsy0Nf3HH3fT8D7nUDqwoWv_mZu-Vz5DI8RTeQWjwNtZ2nesgYFXdyOx2NxWBaoIxeDQlQlrX8Q96b eCj0OKn5K1IrIkvyvcTs9uveViL/s4000/St%20Pancras%20dept.jpg)
I arrived back from Cologne late on Friday nightsometime around half eleven. It was quite a hectic journey, which was perhaps only to be expected when travelling on a Friday afternoon. Still the choice was not my own, as the travel arrangements were designed to allow for maximum cover on our trade stand, at IDS. My two colleagues and I boarded the 16.44 Thalys service to Paris, calling at various destinations en route, such as Aachen, and Liege before arriving at Brussels, where we would leave the rain to await the evening Eurostar service to London.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeiQW2RG1CoCh8HVXB9bIDSInapMsvGS-Bf-ZlkRZR2qHDwDcB8rAiytCp4ygRqDUBmVCm2OkYVj_E0gRrLCDT E6-0gxgoXoZmaqkJK3jqtn_fLUz7CSCsvKDpEuUGYz4ZbrkHaz8-KLd5uuPT_b6ML2Yq8iY9JA5fJnIMa4N3aROqwP4EaaGp57k/w400-h225/IMG_20230313_173537.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeiQW2RG1CoCh8HVXB9bIDSInapMsvGS-Bf-ZlkRZR2qHDwDcB8rAiytCp4ygRqDUBmVCm2OkYVj_E0gRrLCDT E6-0gxgoXoZmaqkJK3jqtn_fLUz7CSCsvKDpEuUGYz4ZbrkHaz8-KLd5uuPT_b6ML2Yq8iY9JA5fJnIMa4N3aROqwP4EaaGp57k/s4000/IMG_20230313_173537.jpg)
As we stood on the platform, we couldn’t help noticing the large number of fellow passengers standing on the platform, waiting to board. Our French Operations Manager, who was travelling with us, observed that her fellow countrymen made up the majority of passengers, which was unsurprising really, considering the final destination of the train. It was a bit of a melee trying to get on board, with our suitcases and rucksacks, as whilst we tried travelling as lightly as possible, this wasn’t easy considering the nature of our business in Cologne.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVtQb_1Gunr8BCSoBZWgqIRsxcZexaPlIzlCep91lxa RBZHQxE_tqMB3CbphZ_G2dzisDklHzJNbPdPotnvUyof7nH_a4 xr80Z8NLeYpUgC3iZZgTSCsd-Zkaab0Lh5VIN3VmPQbqo9mPZX1VjFCsCQWkvtXHh47SHZXsVyE JfjUJTk9hPkf0Wy0M/w400-h225/IMG_20230317_185513.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVtQb_1Gunr8BCSoBZWgqIRsxcZexaPlIzlCep91lxa RBZHQxE_tqMB3CbphZ_G2dzisDklHzJNbPdPotnvUyof7nH_a4 xr80Z8NLeYpUgC3iZZgTSCsd-Zkaab0Lh5VIN3VmPQbqo9mPZX1VjFCsCQWkvtXHh47SHZXsVyE JfjUJTk9hPkf0Wy0M/s4000/IMG_20230317_185513.jpg)
When attending a trade show you obviously need to dress the part, which means business suit, several shirts, and suitable shoes, along with something more casual to wear in the evenings. There was no need to panic though, and we managed to struggle on board in spite of the excess baggage we were carrying. Once seated, we settled down to enjoy the journey west, crossing from North Rhine-Westphalia and into Belgium, shortly after the city of Aachen, or Aix-le Chapelle as the French call it. Once in Brussels, there was time do a little shopping, and to grab a bite to eat, in the form of a slice of pizza, plus a can of Jupiler. It wasn’t exactly a feast but was sufficient to deal with any nagging hunger pangs.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4YY9NGfphRujS_cce5ZtaP9FPNo72pteFYxJAipG-qTkmeMA2P7bnLzB-tISHj4W9bnrhzNXai6PZiZ_e2d00igwwsMo6rmYJconezJt6Ss a71VeDHgU1JgT_EcI1WmRyUVxifwmuRlBstB6_XAzH-DB9g2C56EejW26Owt05UXkA2jh-VzbWBR2/w400-h225/IMG_20230313_162114.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4YY9NGfphRujS_cce5ZtaP9FPNo72pteFYxJAipG-qTkmeMA2P7bnLzB-tISHj4W9bnrhzNXai6PZiZ_e2d00igwwsMo6rmYJconezJt6Ss a71VeDHgU1JgT_EcI1WmRyUVxifwmuRlBstB6_XAzH-DB9g2C56EejW26Owt05UXkA2jh-VzbWBR2/s4000/IMG_20230313_162114.jpg)
Unlike the outward journey, we didn't leave the station, but on the way out, I journeyed with a different colleague who, like me, enjoys the occasional beer. We both thought it a good idea to find a place where we could enjoy a glass or two, but despite Bruxelles-Midi station being packed with plenty of shops and fast-food outlets, there didn’t seem to be any bars. Rather strange for Belgium, we thought, so after being forced to go outside, we found a rather pleasant looking bar, called Cafe SAS, just across the road. My companion isn’t a lover of strong beers, so she sensibly opted for small glass of Jupiler, Belgium’s best-selling lager. I, on the other hand, decided to be bold, or perhaps foolhardy, and chose a Westmalle Tripel (in a proper glass, of course), forgetting the fact that it was 9.2% abv.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHIN2NdZXa98dapLx9YZKe3fDdvkppXjy5zGoqPx95K ncuK95P_ee4zshujLpvCvWeCx8_2hnV6F4GtTx1Do14IGEKOV4 5LdI9EmCJ0iow5AC5beevivEMKE_y6GNTEEEtQ0h9ee8J3QMKs y5wqTrS6W-sl9cXvHz_iBVEPpw-p5O7nyAc6lfxMFP/w400-h225/IMG_20230313_164518.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHIN2NdZXa98dapLx9YZKe3fDdvkppXjy5zGoqPx95K ncuK95P_ee4zshujLpvCvWeCx8_2hnV6F4GtTx1Do14IGEKOV4 5LdI9EmCJ0iow5AC5beevivEMKE_y6GNTEEEtQ0h9ee8J3QMKs y5wqTrS6W-sl9cXvHz_iBVEPpw-p5O7nyAc6lfxMFP/s4000/IMG_20230313_164518.jpg)
Despite thinking we’d left sufficient time to board our train, we literally made it by the skin of our teeth. The waitress had disappeared, which meant seeking her out in order to pay the bill, then we discovered our Thalys train would be boarding from platform 4, and the platform numbering at the southern entrance, began at No. 22! It was a heart-stopping moment, as we raced through the concourse, but one I should have been better prepared for – always pay the bill Paul, as soon as you receive the drinks!!
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWt4l9sjU2Y7v1119hl38zam-T2fSEz9zFyNAmqgco8A0xR5QDQlTYo2qykbKfInXYckCYbK0d6 vw4rZjPYg2dElKyPa3GwcnNk1-ZEXEdvfEbupD5epOpizoX9c6amdmq_XYHq59ljwKwaqOvWpU7L 67XcGZFCUJwmijC0lB9lxvRQIYk-QesVxa/w225-h400/Westmalle%20Tripel.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWt4l9sjU2Y7v1119hl38zam-T2fSEz9zFyNAmqgco8A0xR5QDQlTYo2qykbKfInXYckCYbK0d6 vw4rZjPYg2dElKyPa3GwcnNk1-ZEXEdvfEbupD5epOpizoX9c6amdmq_XYHq59ljwKwaqOvWpU7L 67XcGZFCUJwmijC0lB9lxvRQIYk-QesVxa/s3891/Westmalle%20Tripel.jpg)
I enjoyed the outward second leg of the journey, perhaps due to the strong Trappist beer, I’d just enjoyed, but the good progress we were making, was marred by a 20 minute delay, on the western approach to Cologne. Alighting from the train, and walking toward our hotel, we found the Rhine-Land city to be pretty much as we remembered it, although there was a noticeable police and security presence around the station. There had been amass-shooting incident in Hamburg,the week before, so this may have accounted for the visible show of force. Returning to the homeward journey, and the check-in process and security scans at Brussels, prior to boarding the Eurostar. The latter was OK, apart from having to remove my belt, but with no limit on liquids, the process was much quicker than at airports. Border control was the next hurdle, and it struck us all as absurd to have two sets of customs officers just yards apart. First were the Belgian Border Force staff, who at least stamped our passports, but this was followed by the UK Border Force booth, literally a stone throws away. I must say that the staff at both control points were helpful, and in the case of the UK staff possessing a sense of humour. This was because, yet again, the facial recognition software at the automatic barriers, didn’t recognise yours truly! It took some human intervention to allow me to pass through the barrier, although I not alone, as my French colleague had exactly the same issue.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ_OHGc-JFCqyhgZydCZc9ZIjtpHSvL6LTRcvShBH7m_FcYQt56A-jJFzFbN7SEI7N0Kn41OHMTOhnuhvrswpRtoWNEDGnOX6r-nAdv4wlaer7O4JMhmtFq_2fLgkV31vTIJLph-dbGMFg1HOLhE570Pilis5mqLYAowF-uV9yPTwGGJ3cso1k7XXr/w400-h225/SAS%20Bar.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ_OHGc-JFCqyhgZydCZc9ZIjtpHSvL6LTRcvShBH7m_FcYQt56A-jJFzFbN7SEI7N0Kn41OHMTOhnuhvrswpRtoWNEDGnOX6r-nAdv4wlaer7O4JMhmtFq_2fLgkV31vTIJLph-dbGMFg1HOLhE570Pilis5mqLYAowF-uV9yPTwGGJ3cso1k7XXr/s1218/SAS%20Bar.jpg)
If we thought the Thalys train was crowded, the Eurostar was doubly so. I also thought the train carriage itself was ergonomically poorly designed, because having deposited my heavy suitcase in the designated area close to the entrance, I then had to walk the entire length of the coach to find my seat. I could just envisage the ensuing chaos come disembarkation time at London St.Pancras, and I was right. I did the sensible thing by jumping off and walking back along the platform, to the area where the luggage was stowed.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LyWjyJcpY5igKMrx0Qu_Ep8JlCs-Wo0kSF8GmI4J9BrEb_dS4Pxn4odjUTUIMOYnCaC5XBE8NRBS70 dQXVDTTxhafQb9-lHRNB-_9dgC6ebCJbbf6tAGNUZXxtC1lT3q4BRENz9OtWtDMUi6VaJrx 88bUbpUNS8YcNL0yLTcWP0jq1C5PlQph3kg/w400-h225/Koln%20Deutz.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LyWjyJcpY5igKMrx0Qu_Ep8JlCs-Wo0kSF8GmI4J9BrEb_dS4Pxn4odjUTUIMOYnCaC5XBE8NRBS70 dQXVDTTxhafQb9-lHRNB-_9dgC6ebCJbbf6tAGNUZXxtC1lT3q4BRENz9OtWtDMUi6VaJrx 88bUbpUNS8YcNL0yLTcWP0jq1C5PlQph3kg/s4000/Koln%20Deutz.jpg)
There was some uncertainty when we arrived at St Pancras, as to whether the domestic trains would be running, as with a strike by RMTmembers scheduled for the following day, the thought was that services might start running down, prior to the scheduled walkout at midnight. Fortunately, this wasn’t the case, and despite the hordes of people, the three of us made it down to the Thameslink platforms in good time. We then took a southbound train, with my English colleague and I alighting at London Bridge, leaving our French staff member to travel on to East Croydon. She could then pick up a more local train to her home on the Kent-Sussex border.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pIyDMcAuKdaBdtEdAt8SeZ0TbG1liyO80RDlJq24Gu XLpJVFg4lXmNF_hm3byT1X5F7blDLqva0tHxm6w8sj4ttlFVh8 _08paM_MgV-uGqXMpvrnZiMVEIpJVQa6rFkRQn93nQF5ypl1JY9i3pgONtlx6 ZcQ69YH6PVCdN5IdUUp6pp1TYCH-X4p/w400-h225/Yormas.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pIyDMcAuKdaBdtEdAt8SeZ0TbG1liyO80RDlJq24Gu XLpJVFg4lXmNF_hm3byT1X5F7blDLqva0tHxm6w8sj4ttlFVh8 _08paM_MgV-uGqXMpvrnZiMVEIpJVQa6rFkRQn93nQF5ypl1JY9i3pgONtlx6 ZcQ69YH6PVCdN5IdUUp6pp1TYCH-X4p/s4000/Yormas.jpg)
Alighting at London Bridge the two of us hastily switched platforms, and boarded a Tonbridge bound train, where my colleague’s wife was waiting in the car. She kindly gave me a lift home, which saved waiting for a taxi, and by 11.30 pm I was walking through my own front door, gagging for a proper cup of tea! So, four high-speed train journeys in total, some pleasant scenery, comfortable seats, plus the drama of nearly missing a connection and making ourselves look stupid, but all in a day’s work, and fortunately no real harm done! Follow Blog via EmailClick to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
More... (https://baileysbeerblog.blogspot.com/2023/03/cross-channel-drama-or-joys-of.html)